SankeyS  Story  OF 
THE  Gospel  Hymns 


^ 


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SANKEY'S  STORY  OF 
THE  GOSPEL  HYMNS 

^nd  of  SACRED  SONGS  AND  SOLOS 


By  IRA  D.  SANKEY 

{SECOND  EDITION) 

IVitb  an  Introduction  by 
THEODORE  L  CUYLER 


PHILADELPHIA 
THE  SUNDAY  SCHOOL  TIMES  COMPANY 
1906 


Copyright,  1906,  by  The  Sunday  School  Times  Company. 


Entered  at  Stationers*  Hall,  London,  1906. 


Entered  according  to  the  Act  of  Parliament  of  Canada,  in 
year  1906,  by  The  Sunday  School  Times  Company 
at  the  Department  of  Agriculture. 


Nachdruck  verboten,  Uebersetzungs  Recht  vorbehalten. 


INTRODUCTION 


The  deep  interest  I  have  always  taken  in  the  sub- 
ject of  hymnology,  and  my  warm  personal  affection 
for  the  author  of  this  volume,  are  my  warrant  for  be- 
speaking for  it  a  warm  and  hearty  welcome.  If  ever  a 
man  was  raised  and  endowed  for  a  special  work  by 
our  Divine  Master,  that  man  is  Ira  D.  Sankey.  His 
work  has  been  of  a  twofold  character.  Before  his  day 
psalms  and  hymns  and  spiritual  songs  had  always 
been  an  important  part  of  the  services  of  religious 
worship  throughout  Christendom. 

But  he  introduced  a  peculiar  style  of  popular 
hymns  which  are  calculated  to  awaken  the  careless, 
to  melt  the  hardened,  and  to  guide  inquiring  souls  to 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  In  the  next  place,  he  sang 
these  powerful  revival-hymns  himself,  and  became 
as  effective  a  preacher  of  the  gospel  of  salvation  by 
song  as  his  associate,  Dwight  L.  Moody,  was  by  ser- 
mon. The  multitudes  who  heard  his  rich  and  inspir- 
ing voice  in  "The  Ninety  and  Nine,''  "Jesus  of 
Nazareth  Passeth  By"  and  "When  the  Mists  Have 
Rolled  Away"  will  testify  to  the  prodigious  power  with 
which  the  Holy  Spirit  gave  him  utterance.  While  he 
has  had  many  successors,  he  was  the  pioneer. 

This  position  which  our  beloved  Brother  Sankey 
holds  before  the  whole  Christian  world  fitted  him  to 
prepare  such  a  volume  as  this  valuable  addition  to 

iii 


iv 


Introduction 


hymnology.  It  is  the  simple  but  sublime  story  of  the 
quickening,  converting  and  sanctifying  power  of  sacred 
song.  It  adds  a  new  and  thrilling  chapter  to  the  tri- 
umph of  the  Cross.  It  is  a  precious  legacy  by  a  faith- 
ful veteran  of  Jesus  Christ  to  his  fellow-soldiers  in  all 
lands  who  are  battling  for  the  cause  and  crown  of  the 
glorious  Captain  of  our  salvation,  and  who  ''wait  for 
his  appearing." 

Theodore  L.  Cuyler. 

Brooklyn,  New  York, 
November^  igoj. 


PREFACE 


Since  Moses  and  the  children  of  Israel,  on  the 
shore  of  the  Red  Sea,  sang  of  their  deliverance  from 
the  hand  of  Pharaoh,  saying :  I  will  sing  unto  the 
Lord,  for  he  hath  triumphed  gloriously ;  the  horse  and 
his  rider  hath  he  thrown  into  the  sea,''  there  has  never 
been  any  great  religious  movement  without  the  use  of 
sacred  song.  Luther  set  all  Germany  ablaze  with 
religious  enthusiasm  as  he  sang  his  magnificent  hymn, 
Ein'  Feste  Burg,''  in  which  Melanchthon  and  multi- 
tudes of  Christian  soldiers  joined.  In  later  years  the 
church  of  God  was  thrilled  by  the  sermons  of  John 
Wesley  and  the  songs  of  his  brother  Charles,  whose 
hymns  are  more  extensively  used  throughout  Chris- 
tendom than  any  others.  After  the  Wesleys  came 
Charles  G.  Finney,  who,  although  he  did  not  use  the 
service  of  song  as  much  as  others,  yet  as  a  preacher 
was  one  of  the  mightiest  men  of  his  day.  Later  came 
E.  P.  Hammond,  the  children's  evangelist,  who  gave 
the  praise  service  an  especially  important  place  in  his 
work. 

Then,  in  1873,  God  was  pleased  to  send  Mr. 
Moody  and  myself  to  Great  Britain,  where  a  work 
of  grace  was  begun  that  has  continued  until  the  pres- 
ent day.  About  the  same  time  Whittle  and  Bliss  were 
doing  a  remarkable  work  in  the  United  States,  Bliss 
becoming  one  of  the  greatest  song-evangelists  of  that 

V 


vi 


Preface 


age.  For  the  last  two  or  three  years  we  have  had  the 
splendid  campaign  of  Torrey  and  Alexander  in  Aus- 
traHa  and  Great  Britain.  In  their  work  the  prominent 
feature  has  been  the  use  of  praise,  their  most  popular 
hymn  being  "  The  Glory  Song,"  which  perhaps  is  the 
most  generally  used  Gospel  song  of  the  day. 

We  all  agree  with  what  Dr.  Pentecost  has  said  re- 
garding the  power  of  sacred  song :  I  am  profoundly 
sure  that  among  the  divinely  ordained  instrumental- 
ities for  the  conversion  and  sanctification  of  the  soul, 
God  has  not  given  a  greater,  besides  the  preaching  of 
the  Gospel,  than  the  singing  of  psalms  and  hymns  and 
spiritual  songs.  I  have  known  a  hymn  to  do  God's 
w^ork  in  a  soul  when  every  other  instrumentality  has 
failed.  I  could  not  enumerate  the  times  God  has 
rescued  and  saved  my  soul  from  darkness,  discourage- 
ment and  weariness  by  the  singing  of  a  hymn,  gener- 
ally by  bringing  one  to  my  own  heart  and  causing  me 
to  sing  it  to  myself.  It  would  be  easy  to  fill  many 
pages  with  interesting  facts  in  connection  with  the  use 
of  hymns  in  the  public  worship  of  the  house  of  God. 
I  have  seen  vast  audiences  melted  and  swayed  by  a 
simple  hymn  when  they  have  been  unmoved  by  a  pow- 
erful presentation  of  the  gospel  from  the  pulpit." 

For  many  years  past  I  have  been  collecting  and 
writing  up  the  history  of  hymns,  and  incidents  con- 
nected with  their  composition  and  their  use  by  Mr. 
Moody  and  myself,  as  well  as  by  others ;  but  in  1901, 
when  the  manuscript  of  these  stories  was  almost  com- 
pleted, it  was  unfortunately  destroyed  in  the  fire  that 
devastated  the  great  Sanitarium  at  Battle  Creek, 
Michigan,  where  I  was  at  that  time  a  guest  of  my 


Preface 


vii 


friend  Dr.  J.  H.  Kellogg.  In  view  of  the  regret  which 
was  expressed  by  my  friends  over  this  loss,  and  the 
interest  taken  by  the  people  who  sing  our  hymns,  I 
decided  to  rewrite  the  story  from  memory,  as  far  as  I 
was  able.   The  present  series  is  the  result. 

I  am  indebted  to  the  Rev.  John  Julian,  the  Rev. 
S.  W.  Duffield  and  the  Rev.  E.  S.  Lorenz,  from  whose 
works  I  have  collected  some  dates  and  incidents ;  also 
to  my  faithful  nurse,  Mr.  Charles  G.  Rosewall,  for  aid 
in  compiling  and  writing  this  book.  In  the  prepara- 
tion of  the  old  original  manuscript  I  was  especially 
indebted  to  my  friend,  Mr.  Oliver  H.  Shiras,  for  his 
able  assistance. 

Ira  D.  Sank^y. 

Brooklyn,  Nct  York, 
January,  1906. 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Portrait  of  Ira  D.  San  key  Frontispiece 

Portrait  of  D.  L  Moody  Facing  page  8 

Mr.  Sankey  in  Spurgeon's  Tabernacle, 

London  Facing  page  102 


SANKEY'S  STORY 
OF  HIS  OWN  LIFE 


SANKEY'S  STORY  OF  HIS 
OWN  LIFE 


I  was  born  in  the  village  of  Edinburg,  on  the  Ma- 
honing River  in  Western  Pennsylvania,  August  28, 
1840.  My  father,  the  Hon.  David  Sankey,  and  my 
mother,  Mary,  resided  in  Edinburg  until  I  was  six 
years  of  age,  when  they  removed  to  what  was  then 
known  as  Western  Reserve  Harbor,  where  my  father 
engaged  in  the  forwarding  and  commission  business 
near  the  head  waters  of  the  Shenango  River. 

Prom  there  my  father  later  moved  to  a  farm  near 
by,  where  I  grew  up,  assisting  in  the  farm  work.  Here 
my  father  was  elected  to  the  State  Legislature,  in  which 
he  continued  for  a  period  of  thirteen  years.  I  received 
the  usual  school  privileges  which  fell  to  the  lot  of  boys 
and  girls  of  those  days.  The  very  first  recollection  I 
have  of  anything  pertaining  to  a  holy  life  was  in  con- 
nection with  a  Mr.  Frazer.  I  recall  how  he  took  me 
by  the  hand  and  led  me  with  his  own  children  to  the 
Sunday-school  held  in  the  old  schoolhouse.  I  shall 
remember  this  to  my  dying  day.  He  had  a  warm  heart 
and  the  children  all  loved  him.  It  was  not  until  some 
years  after  that  I  was  converted,  at  the  age  of  sixteen, 
while  attending  revival  meetings  at  a  church  known 
as  The  King's  Chapel,  about  three  miles  from  my 
home,  but  my  first  impressions  were  received  from  that 
man  when  I  was  very  young. 

3 


4  Sankey's  Story 


In  1857  our  family  removed  to  Newcastle,  where 
my  father  assumed  the  presidency  of  the  bank.  Here 
I  attended  the  high-school,  where  every  opportunity 
was  given  to  study  such  of  the  higher  branches  as  the 
student  might  have  a  taste  for,  and  later  I  took  a  posi- 
tion in  the  bank.  On  arriving  at  Newcastle  I  joined 
the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church.  Soon  I  was  elected 
superintendent  of  the  Sunday-school  and  leader  of  the 
choir. 

It  was  here  that  my  voice  began  to  attract  atten- 
tion, and  before  long  the  Sunday-school  overflowed 
with  people  who  came  to  hear  the  singing.  In  this 
way,  though  unconsciously,  I  was  making  preparation 
for  the  work  in  which  I  was  to  spend  my  life. 

In  the  spring  of  i860,  on  the  call  of  President  Lin- 
coln for  men  to  sustain  the  Government,  I  was  among 
the  first  in  Newcastle  to  have  my  name  enrolled  as  a 
soldier.  My  company  was  sent  to  Maryland.  Re- 
ligious services  were  held  in  the  camp,  and  I  was  often 
called  upon  to  lead  the  singing.  I  soon  found  several 
other  young  men  who  had  the  same  gift.  In  a  short 
time  the  people  around  us  also  learned  that  there  were 
some  good  singers  in  the  Union  camp,  and  we  were 
frequently  invited  out  by  families  who  had  heard  of 
the  singing  of  the  ''boys  in  blue."  At  the  expiration 
of  my  term  as  a  soldier  I  did  not  re-enter  the  army,  but 
returned  to  Newcastle  to  assist  my  father,  who  had 
been  appointed  by  Abraham  Lincoln  as  a  collector  of 
internal  revenue. 

In  1863,  on  the  9th  of  September,  I  married  a 
member  of  my  choir — Miss  Fanny  V.  Edwards,  a 
daughter  of  the  Hon.  John  Edwards.    She  has  been  a 


Of  His  Own  Life 


5 


blessing  and  a  helpmate  to  me  throughout  my  Hfe  and 
in  all  my  work. 

My  services  as  a  singer  became  much  in  demand 
in  Western  Pennsylvania  and  Eastern  Ohio  for  Sun- 
day-school conventions  and  political  gatherings.  In 
1867,  when  I  was  twenty-seven  years  old,  a  branch  of 
the  Young  Men's  Christian  Association  was  organized 
at  Newcastle,  of  which  I  was  at  that  time  elected  sec- 
retary and  later  president.  The  first  meetings  were 
held  in  a  small  hired  room.  From  that  modest  begin- 
ning, by  the  help  of  God,  I  was  later  enabled  to  give 
to  the  city  a  Young  Men's  Christian  Association  build- 
ing, including  gymnasium,  library  and  bathrooms,  in 
all  costing  more  than  $40,000,  by  means  of  money  real- 
ized from  the  sale  of  ''Gospel  Hymns."  Not  far  from 
this  building,  on  Jefferson  Street,  I  bought  a  beautiful 
lot  for  my  old  church,  on  which  to  erect  a  new  struc- 
ture, and  later  I  assisted  Bishop  Vincent  to  raise  the 
necessary  funds,  so  that  the  new  church  was  dedicated 
without  any  debt.  My  father  and  mother  were  mem- 
bers of  this  church  until  they  passed  away. 

In  1870,  with  two  or  three  others,  I  was  appointed 
a  delegate  to  the  International  Convention  of  the  Asso- 
ciation, to  be  held  at  Indianapolis  that  year.  It  was 
announced  that  Moody  would  lead  a  morning  prayer- 
meeting  at  7  o'clock.  I  was  rather  late,  and  therefore 
sat  down  near  the  door  with  a  Presbyterian  minister, 
the  Rev.  Robert  McMillan,  a  delegate  from  my  own 
county,  who  said  to  me,  "  Mr.  Sankey,  the  singing 
here  has  been  abominable ;  I  wish  you  would  start  up 
something  when  that  man  stops  praying,  if  he  ever 
does."    I  promised  him  to  do  so,  and  when  opportu- 


6 


Sankey's  Story 


nity  offered  I  sang  the  familiar  hymn,  "  There  is  a 
fountain  filled  with  blood."  The  congregation  joined 
heartily  and  a  brighter  aspect  seemed  to  be  given  to 
the  meeting. 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  meeting  Mr.  McMillan 
said  to  me:  'Xet  me  introduce  you  to  Mr.  Moody." 
We  joined  the  little  procession  of  persons  who  were 
going  up  to  shake  hands  with  him,  and  thus  I  met  for 
the  first  time  the  man  with  whom,  in  the  providence 
of  God,  I  was  to  be  associated  for  the  remainder  of 
his  life,  or  nearly  thirty  years. 

Moody's  first  words  to  me,  after  my  introduction, 
were,  Where  are  you  from  ?  Are  you  married  ? 
What  is  your  business  ?  "  Upon  telling  him  that  I 
lived  in  Pennsylvania,  was  married,  had  two  children, 
and  was  in  the  government  employ,  he  said  abruptly, 
You  will  have  to  give  that  up." 

I  stood  amazed,  at  a  loss  to  understand  why  the 
man  told  me  that  I  would  have  to  give  up  what  I  con- 
sidered a  good  position.    ''What  for?"  I  exclaimed. 

"  To  come  to  Chicago  and  help  me  in  my  work," 
was  the  answer. 

When  I  told  him  that  I  could  not  leave  my  busi- 
ness, he  retorted,  ''You  must;  I  have  been  looking 
for  you  for  the  last  eight  years." 

I  answered  that  I  would  think  the  matter  over; 
but  as  yet  I  had  no  thought  of  giving  up  my  position. 
Mr.  Moody  then  asked  me  if  I  would  go  with  him 
and  pray  over  the  matter,  and  to  this  I  consented — 
cut  of  politeness.  After  the  prayer  we  parted,  and 
I  returned  to  my  room,  much  impressed  by  Mr. 
Moody's  prayer,  but  still  undecided. 


Of  His  Own  Life 


7 


The  next  day  I  received  a  card  from  Mr.  Moody 
asking  if  I  would  meet  him  on  a  certain  street  corner 
that  evening  at  six  o'clock.  At  that  hour  I  was  at 
the  place  named,  with  a  few  of  my  friends.  In  a  few 
minutes  Moody  came  along. 

Without  stopping  to  speak,  he  passed  on  into  a 
store  near  by,  and  asked  permission  to  use  a  large 
store-box.  The  permission  was  granted;  he  rolled 
the  box  into  the  street,  and  calling  me  aside,  asked 
me  to  get  up  on  the  box  and  sing  something. 

"  Am  I  a  soldier  of  the  cross  ?  "  soon  gathered  a 
considerable  crowd.  After  the  song,  Mr.  Moody 
climbed  up  on  the  box  and  began  to  talk.  The  work- 
ingmen  were  just  going  home  from  the  mills  and  the 
factories,  and  in  a  short  time  a  very  large  crowd  had 
gathered.  The  people  stood  spellbound  as  the  words 
fell  from  Moody's  lips  with  wonderful  force  and  rap- 
idity. When  he  had  spoken  for  some  twenty-five 
minutes  he  announced  that  the  meeting  would  be 
continued  at  the  Opera  House,  and  invited  the  people 
to  accompany  us  there.  He  asked  me  to  lead  the 
way,  and  with  my  friends  sing  some  familiar  hymn. 
This  we  did,  singing  as  we  marched  down  the  street, 
"  Shall  we  gather  at  the  river.''  The  men  with  the 
dinner-pails  followed  closely  on  our  heels  instead  of 
going  home,  so  completely  were  they  carried  away  by 
the  sermon  from  the  store-box. 

The  Opera  House  was  packed  to  the  doors,  and 
Moody  first  saw  that  all  the  workingmen  were  seated 
before  he  ascended  to  the  platform  to  speak.  His 
second  address  was  as  captivating  as  the  one  delivered 
on  the  street  comer,  and  it  was  not  until  the  delegates 


8 


Sankey's  Story 


had  arrived  for  the  evening  session  of  the  convention 
that  Mr.  Moody  closed  the  meeting,  saying,  "  Now  we 
must  close,  as  the  brethren  of  the  convention  wish  to 
come  in  to  discuss  the  question,  '  How  to  reach  the 
masses/  "  Here  was  a  man  who  could  successfully 
reach  the  masses  while  others  were  talking  about  it. 

When  Mr.  Moody  again  brought  up  the  question 
of  our  going  into  the  work  together,  I  was  still  unde- 
cided. After  a  delay  of  over  six  months,  and  much 
urging  on  Mr.  Moody's  part,  I  consented  to  spend  a 
week  with  him ;  and  before  that  week  was  over  I  had 
sent  my  resignation  to  Mr.  Hugh  McCullough,  at  that 
time  Secretary  of  the  Treasury,  and  the  position  which 
I  had  held  was,  at  my  request,  given  to  a  *'buck- 
tail"  soldier  who  had  escaped  from  Libby  Prison. 

We  thus  commenced  work  together  in  Chicago  in 
the  early  part  of  1871,  visiting  poor  and  needy  ones 
of  Mr.  Moody's  little  flock,  singing  and  praying  with 
the  sick,  speaking  and  singing  at  the  daily  noon 
prayer-meetings,  and  other  work,  until  Mr.  Moody's 
church  was  destroyed  in  the  Chicago  fire. 

Sunday  evening,  October  8,  187 1,  we  were  hold- 
ing a  meeting  in  Farwell  Hall,  which  was  crowded  to 
the  doors.  At  the  close  of  his  address  Mr.  Moody 
asked  me  to  sing  a  solo,  and  standing  by  the  great 
organ  at  the  rear  of  the  platform  I  began  the  old,  fa- 
miliar hymn, To-day  the  Saviour  calls."  By  the  time 
I  had  reached  the  third  verse, 

"To-day  the  Saviour  calls: 
For  refuge  fly; 
The  storm  of  justice  falls, 
And  death  is  nigh," 


Of  His  Own  Life 


9 


my  voice  was  drowned  by  the  loud  noise  of  the  fire 
engines  rushing  past  the  hall  and  the  tolling  of  bells, 
among  which  we  could  hear,  ever  and  anon,  the  deep, 
sullen  tones  of  the  great  city  bell,  in  the  steeple  of  the 
old  court-house  close  at  hand,  ringing  out  a  general 
alarm. 

Tremendous  confusion  was  heard  in  the  streets, 
and  Mr.  Moody  decided  to  close  the  meeting  at  once, 
for  the  audience  was  becoming  restless  and  alarmed. 
As  the  people  dispersed,  I  went  with  Mr.  Moody  down 
the  small  back  stairway  leading  into  the  old  Arcade 
Court,  and  from  our  position  there  we  watched  the 
reflection  of  the  fire,  half  a  mile  away,  on  the  west 
side  of  the  city,  as  it  cast  its  ominous  glare  against  the 
sky.  After  a  few  moments  we  separated,  I  to  go  over 
the  river  to  where  the  fire  was  raging,  and  he  to  his 
home  on  the  North  Side.  We  did  not  meet  again  for 
more  than  two  months. 

On  reaching  the  scene  of  the  fire  I  found  a  whole 
block  of  small  frame  buildings  burning  fiercely,  and 
with  others  I  assisted  in  tearing  down  some  board 
fences,  to  try  to  keep  the  fire  from  spreading  to  the 
adjoining  territory.  While  thus  engaged,  the  wind 
from  the  southwest  had  risen  almost  to  a  hurricane, 
and  the  flying  embers  from  the  falling  buildings  were 
quickly  caught  up  and  carried  high  upon  the  roofs  of 
the  houses  adjoining,  which  were  soon  in  flames.  Thus 
the  fire  spread  from  building  to  building,  and  from 
block  to  block,  until  it  was  evident  that  the  city  was 
doomed.  All  this  time  the  fire  was  moving  in  the  di- 
rection of  Farwell  Hall  and  the  business  center  of  the 
city. 


lo  Sankeys  Story 


I  now  gave  up  the  fight,  and  made  haste  to  recross 
the  river,  hurrying  back  to  my  quarters — my  Hving 
room  and  office — in  the  Farwell  Hall  Building.  The 
fire  followed  so  rapidly  that  several  times  I  had  to 
shake  from  my  coat  the  falling  embers.  Arriving  at 
the  hall,  I  gathered  up  a  number  of  belongings  which 
I  especially  wished  to  save,  and,  placing  them  close 
to  the  door  of  my  office,  went  out  to  find  a  convey- 
ance so  as  to  transfer  them  to  a  place  of  safety.  It  was 
now  between  one  and  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and 
not  a  carriage  or  truck  could  be  found  in  the  streets. 

While  still  looking  for  a  conveyance  I  saw  in  the 
distance,  coming  up  Clark  Street,  a  horse  attached 
to  an  express  wagon,  running  at  full  speed,  without  a 
driver,  and  ten  or  fifteen  men  running  after  it  trying 
to  capture  the  animal.  I  made  a  dash  for  the  flying 
steed,  but  in  turning  from  one  street  into  another  he 
slipped  and  fell,  and  in  a  moment  a  crowed  of  men  were 
on  top  of  him,  each  claiming  the  right  of  possession. 
Not  caring  to  share  in  the  contest,  I  returned  to  the 
hall,  and  commenced  the  task  of  carrying  my  eflPects 
toward  Lake  Michigan,  half  a  mile  distant. 

On  the  way  to  the  lake  I  passed  the  present  loca- 
tion of  the  Palmer  House,  then  being  erected,  the 
foundation  of  which  had  only  been  built  to  the  level 
of  the  street.  Believing  that  the  rooms  and  under- 
ground passages  would  aflford  a  temporary  place  of 
security  for  some  of  my  things,  I  walked  on  a  plank 
down  into  the  cellar,  and  hid  two  large  valises  in  the 
darkest  comer  I  could  find.  As  yet,  only  a  few  people 
were  moving  out  of  their  homes  in  this  section  of  the 
city,  and,  as  I  noticed  the  seeming  indiflference  of  those 


Of  His  Own  Life 


who  had  come  to  the  windows  of  their  houses,  I  called 
out  to  them  to  escape  for  their  lives,  as  the  city  was 
doomed  to  destruction.  Some  became  alarmed ;  others 
laughed  me  to  scorn. 

I  returned  to  the  hall  for  another  load  of  my  be- 
longings, and  after  securing  all  I  could  carry,  started 
in  a  more  direct  route  for  the  lake,  the  streets  being 
Ht  up  by  the  glare  of  the  oncoming  conflagration.  After 
getting  about  half-way  to  the  shore,  I  stopped  and 
deposited  my  burden  on  the  front  steps  of  a  fine  resi- 
dence I  was  passing,  thinking  I  would  soon  return 
and  find  them  there.  Again,  for  the  third  time,  I  went 
back  to  my  rooms,  and  gathering  up  a  few  more  arti- 
cles started  for  the  stone  steps.  I  found,  however, 
on  reaching  the  house,  that  the  things  I  had  left  there 
were  covered  several  feet  deep  with  other  people's 
belongings,  and  I  never  saw  them  again. 

By  this  time  the  people  were  fully  awake,  rushing 
about  the  street,  or  anxiously  looking  out  of  their 
windows  and  from  the  tops  of  their  houses  in  the 
direction  of  the  fire.  I  could  not  help  thinking  of  the 
Bible  story  of  the  destruction  of  the  Cities  of  the  Plain 
in  the  long  ago,  as  many  still  made  light  of  those  who 
said  the  city  would  be  destroyed.  The  air  was  filled 
with  flying  sparks  of  fire,  resembling  a  spring  snow- 
storm, when  the  sky  is  filled  with  huge,  falling  flakes. 

As  I  pressed  on,  two  men  carrying  a  sick  man  on  a 
stretcher  overtook  me.  After  passing  a  short  distance 
ahead,  they  stopped  and  laid  him  by  the  side  of  the 
street,  as  the  invalid,  being  quite  sure  the  city  would 
not  be  destroyed,  did  not  wish  to  be  carried  farther. 
As  soon  as  the  carriers  had  been  paid  off  and  dis- 


12  Sankeys  Story 


charged  I  employed  them  to  assist  me  in  carrying 
my  effects  to  the  lakeside ;  but  before  we  reached  our 
destination,  in  looking  southward,  they  saw  that  the 
fire  was  sweeping  through  the  southeastern  section  of 
the  city,  where  they  lived.  Dropping  my  goods  in  the 
middle  of  the  street,  and  without  waiting  for  com- 
pensation, they  rushed  away  to  secure  their  own 
homes. 

Again  I  secured  help,  and  at  last  reached  the  lake, 
where  I  deposited  my  trunks  and  possessions  close  by 
the  edge  of  the  water,  with  the  thought  that  if  the 
flames  came  to  the  edge  of  the  lake  I  would  walk  into 
the  water  and  be  saved  from  the  heat.  Remember- 
ing my  first  attempt  at  carrying  my  goods  away  from 
Farwell  Hall,  I  returned  to  the  Palmer  House  block, 
to  secure,  if  possible,  my  first  cargo,  very  much  fear- 
ing that  the  things  would  not  be  there  when  I  reached 
the  place,  as  I  thought  some  night  wanderer  might 
have  noticed  my  leaving  them  and  appropriated  them 
to  his  own  use.  Much  to  my  joy,  I  found  them  still 
there,  and  carried  them  away  to  the  lake. 

By  this  time  I  was  greatly  exhausted,  and  almost 
famished  for  want  of  water,  that  along  the  shore  not 
being  fit  to  drink.  I  asked  another  refugee,  who  was 
in  like  case  with  myself,  watching  his  little  store  of 
precious  things,  if  he  would  look  out  for  mine  while  I 
returned  into  the  city  to  get  some  water  to  drink. 
The  man  consenting,  I  went  back  to  Wabash  Avenue, 
one  of  the  finest  residential  streets  in  the  city,  and, 
entering  one  of  the  large  houses,  asked  if  I  might  have 
some  water.  I  was  told  to  go  into  the  rear  of  the 
building  and  get  all  I  wished.    I  found  a  faucet,  but, 


Of  His  Own  Life  13 


on  attempting  to  draw  water,  air  rushed  out  instead. 
This  was  my  first  intimation  that  the  water-works,  two 
miles  to  the  northward,  had  been  destroyed.  A  few 
minutes  later  I  heard  a  terrific  explosion,  which 
seemed  to  shake  the  city,  and  was  told  that  the  city 
gas-works  had  blown  up. 

Things  began  to  look  very  desperate — no  water, 
no  light  in  the  houses,  and  the  city  in  flames !  I  made 
my  way  back  again  to  the  lake,  and  wrapping  myself 
in  a  great  overcoat,  lay  down  behind  one  of  the  large 
trunks  which  I  had  saved.  Thus  sheltered  from  the 
wind,  I  slept  for  an  hour.  On  awaking  I  could  hear 
the  rush  and  roar  of  the  fire  coming  nearer  and  nearer. 
The  sun,  slowly  rising  out  of  the  waters  of  the  lake, 
seemed  like  a  red  ball  of  fire.  The  wind  had  not  fallen, 
and  huge  waves  were  breaking  on  the  shore  at  my  feet. 

I  now  felt  that  I  must  have  water  to  drink,  and, 
after  wandering  along  the  shore  for  some  distance, 
found  some  small  rowboats,  and  asked  a  man  near 
by,  who  seemed  to  be  their  owner,  if  I  might  have  one 
to  go  out  into  the  lake  for  fresh  water.  "  Yes,"  he 
said ;  "  if  you  can  manage  the  boat  you  can  have  it, 
as  we  are  not  likely  to  have  much  more  boating  in  this 
section  for  some  time  to  come."  So  I  took  possession 
of  one,  and  rowed  down  to  where  my  goods  were  de- 
posited. Rolling  them  on  board,  I  made  my  way  out 
into  the  lake,  passing  through  the  piling  on  which 
the  railway  was  built,  in  front  of  the  city.  After  get- 
ting my  boat  through  the  piling,  I  rowed  out  far 
enough  to  find  fresh  water.  Then,  tying  my  boat  to 
some  timbers  that  were  being  used  for  the  erection  of 
a  new  breakwater,  I  climbed  up  on  the  pile  of  lumber 


Sankey's  Story 


and  for  several  hours  watched  the  destruction  of  the 
city.  Every  few  minutes  a  loud  explosion  would 
occur.  I  afterwards  learned  that  these  were  caused 
by  the  blowing  up  of  buildings — ^by  order  of  General 
Sheridan,  who  was  in  the  city -at  the  time — so  as  to 
form  a  barrier  against  the  fire  and  prevent  its  spread- 
ing to  the  southward. 

It  was  interesting  to  watch  the  tramps  and  thieves 
carrying  away  on  their  backs  large  bales  of  silk  and 
satin  goods  which  they  had  taken  from  the  burning 
stores  in  the  wholesale  district.  Most  of  them  fol- 
lowed the  railway  track  southward,  not  knowing  that 
at  the  place  where  the  track  reached  the  land  a  com- 
pany of  fire  insurance  agents  were  waiting  with  open 
arms  to  relieve  them  of  their  burdens. 

The  day  wore  away,  but  the  city  was  still  burning, 
and,  as  the  sun  was  sinking  in  the  west,  a  song  came 
into  my  mind  which  I  had  been  singing  a  few  days 
before  in  Mr.  Moody's  large  Sunday-school  on  the 
North  Side,  and  I  sang  it  through  as  I  sat  there,  with 
the  waves  beating  about  me.  The  first  verse  was  as 
follows : 

"Dark  is  the  night,  and  cold  the  wind  is  blowing, 
Nearer  and  nearer  comes  the  breakers'  roar; 
Where  shall  I  go,  or  whither  fly  for  refuge? 
Hide  me,  my  Father,  till  the  storm  is  o*er." 

I  finally  determined  to  get  back  to  land,  but  was 
not  aware  of  the  fact  that  the  riding  of  my  boat  upon 
the  waves  had  almost  sawn  asunder  the  line  with 
which  it  was  attached  to  the  timber.  As  I  jumped 
into  the  boat  the  line  broke,  and  I  was  swept  out  into 
the  lake,  the  waves  sweeping  over  my  little  bark. 


Of  His  Ow7i  Life 


15 


For  a  moment  I  was  in  real  danger  of  being  lost,  but 
I  soon  had  the  boat  under  control,  and,  after  a  few 
moments  of  hard  work,  reached  the  shore  in  safety. 

I  then  secured  a  drayman,  who  for  the  sum  of  ten 
dollars  agreed  to  carry  me  and  my  effects  to  the  un- 
bumed  end  of  the  Fort  Wayne  &  Chicago  Railway 
if  he  could  find  it.  He  succeeded.  I  checked  my 
goods  for  my  home  in  the  E^st,  secured  some  refresh- 
ments at  a  near-by  restaurant,  and  went  back  into  the 
burnt  district.  Farwell  Hall  was  gone,  and  every 
building  in  that  part  of  the  city  had  disappeared. 
The  paved  streets,  covered  with  hot  bricks  and  long 
coils  of  burnt  and  twisted  telegraph  wire,  told  some- 
thing of  the  awful  story.  Most  of  the  substance  of 
these  great  buildings  had  actually  been  carried  away 
by  the  hot  air  into  the  water  of  Lake  Michigan. 

After  seeing  something  of  the  fearful  destruction 
wrought  by  the  conflagration,  I  made  my  way  through 
the  heated  streets  to  the  railway,  and  took  an  outgoing 
train  for  my  home  in  Pennsylvania.  As  we  left  the 
city  it  seemed  as  though  the  whole  country  was  on  fire ; 
in  all  directions  we  could  see  huge  banks  of  flame 
sweeping  across  the  prairies,  and  the  air  was  filled  to 
suffocation  with  smoke. 

I  was  soon  able  to  telegraph  home  of  my  safety 
and  speedy  return.  It  seemed  as  though  this  would 
end  my  work  in  Chicago,  but  two  months  later  Mr. 
Moody  telegraphed  me  to  return  and  help  him  in  the 
new  temporary  ''Tabernacle,"  which  had  by  that  time 
been  erected.  On  my  return  to  Chicago  I  learned  that 
Mr.  Moody,  after  reaching  his  home  on  the  North 
Side,  had  aroused  his  sleeping  neighbors,  assisted  men 


i6 


Sankey  s  Story 


and  women  into  conveyances,  and  urged  them  to  flee 
for  their  Hves.  As  the  billows  of  fire  came  nearer 
and  nearer,  Mr.  Moody,  with  his  wife  and  children, 
made  his  way  into  the  northwestern  district  to  a  place 
of  safety  beyond  the  fire  line.  Before  leaving  her 
home  Mrs.  Moody  took  down  from  the  wall  an  oil 
painting  of  her  husband  and  asked  him  to  carry  it 
with  him ;  but  he  declined,  saying  that  he  did  not  think 
it  would  look  well  for  him  to  be  running  through  the 
streets  of  Chicago  with  his  picture  in  his  arms  at  such 
a  time !  Speaking  of  the  fire  to  a  friend  some  time 
later,  Mr.  Moody  remarked : 

"  All  I  saved  was  my  Bible,  my  family  and  my 
reputation." 

We  continued  to  hold  services  and  to  help  the 
poor  and  needy  who  had  lost  everything  in  the  fire. 
We  slept  together  in  a  corner  of  the  new  Tabernacle, 
with  nothing  for  a  bed  but  a  single  lounge,  and  fre- 
quently the  fierce  prairie  winds  would  blow  the  drifting 
snow  into  our  room. 

In  October  of  1872  I  moved  my  family  to  Chicago, 
and  in  the  same  year  Mr.  bloody  went  on  his  second 
trip  to  England,  leaving  me  in  charge  of  the  work  at 
the  Tabernacle,  assisted  by  Major  Whittle,  Richard 
Thain,  Fleming  H.  Revell,  and  others.  There  were 
conversions  in  the  church  and  Sunday-school  every 
week. 

After  Mr.  Moody's  return  we  accepted  an  invita- 
tion to  go  to  Springfield,  Illinois,  to  hold  services, 
which  were  attended  with  great  blessing.  Indeed,  it 
seemed  that  if  we  had  remained  and  thus  worked  in 
our  own  country  a  great  revival  would  have  taken 


Of  His  Own  Life 


17 


place.  On  our  way  to  Springfield  the  train  stopped 
at  a  station  near  Chicago,  where  a  great  crowd  was 
assembled  on  the  platform.  Mr.  Moody  sat  by  an 
open  window.  Near  by  stood  a  tall,  gaunt-looking 
countryman,  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  looking 
at  Mr.  Moody  through  the  window.  Mr.  Moody  asked 
him  what  the  crowd  meant,  and  the  man  replied : 

"  Oh,  the  folks  have  just  come  down  to  see  the 
cars." 

*'Did  you  know  that  General  Grant  was  on  the 
train  ? Mr.  Moody  inquired. 

"  Oh,  is  he  ?  "  the  man  exclaimed. 

Mr.  Moody,  with  a  smile,  told  him  that  he  was 
not.  Quite  nonplussed,  the  man  walked  down  the 
platform  a  little  way,  but  returned  in  a  little  while  and 
said : 

"Hello,  Mister!  We  had  a  great  time  in  town 
last  night." 

"How  was  that?"  asked  Mr.  Moody. 

"  There  was  a  woman  here,  and  they  wouldn't 
bury  her." 

"Why  wouldn't  they  bury  her?"  Mr.  Moody 
asked. 

"  Because  she  wasn't  dead,"  the  man  smilingly  an- 
swered, to  the  great  amusement  of  his  friends. 

Mr.  Moody  turned  to  me  and  said :  "  Sankey,  put 
that  window  down!" 

About  this  time  my  friend  Philip  Phillips  re- 
turned from  Europe,  where  he  had  been  singing  for 
one  hundred  nights  in  succession.  He  came  to  Chi- 
cago and  stopped  with  me.  He  made  a  very  enticing 
offer,  including  a  large  salary  and  all  expenses,  if  I 


i8 


Sankeys  Story 


would  go  with  him  to  the  Pacific  coast  and  there  assist 
him  in  his  services  of  song.  I  wouldn't  promise  any- 
thing until  I  had  spent  some  hours  in  consultation  and 
prayer  with  my  friend,  Mr.  Moody ;  the  result  was  that 
I  remained  with  him. 

In  June,  1873,  sailed  for  England,  Mr.  ]\Ioody 
taking  his  wife  and  children  with  him,  and  my  wife 
accompanying  me,  having  left  our  two  children  with 
their  grandparents.  The  voyage  was  uneventful,  but 
on  arriving  at  Liverpool  Mr.  Moody  received  letters 
informing  him  that  both  Mr.  Pennefather  and  Mr. 
Bainbridge,  the  two  men  who  had  invited  us  to  come 
to  England,  were  dead. 

Neither  of  us  had  any  money,  and  the  situation 
looked  anything  but  cheerful.  Turning  to  me,  Mr. 
Moody  said,  Sankey,  it  seems  as  if  God  has  closed 
the  door  for  us,  and  if  he  will  not  open  it  we  will 
return  to  America  at  once." 

But  as  Mr.  Moody  was  looking  over  some  letters 
which  he  had  received  in  New  York  before  sailing, 
and  which  had  remained  unread,  he  found  one 
from  the  secretary  of  the  Young  Men^s  Christian 
Association  at  York,  asking  him  if  he  ever  came  to 
England  again,  to  come  there  and  speak  for  the  Asso- 
ciation. Here  is  a  door,''  said  Moody  to  me  after 
reading  the  letter,  which  is  partly  open,  and  we  will 
go  there  and  begin  our  work." 

Mr.  Bennett,  this  Association  secretary,  secured 
for  our  use  a  vacant  chapel,  but  said  that  he  hardly 
thought  it  worth  while  for  us  to  commence  work,  as 
nearly  all  the  people  were  off  at  the  seaside.  "  Sankey, 
write  out  a  little  notice,"  said  Mr.  Moody,  turning  to 


Of  His  Own  Life 


19 


me ;  "  we  will  have  some  handbills  struck  off.''  And 
the  notice  read  as  follows : 

EVANGELISTIC  SERVICES  . 
D.  L.  Moody  of  Chicago  will  preach,  and  Ira  D.  Sankey 
of  Chicago  will  sing,  at  7  o'clock  P.  M.  to-morrow,  Thurs- 
day, and  each  succeeding  evening  for  a  week,  in  the  Inde- 
pendent Chapel.    All  are  welcome.    No  collection. 

The  first  meeting  was  attended  by  less  than  fifty 
persons,  who  took  seats  as  far  away  from  the  pulpit  as 
possible.  I  sang  several  solos  before  Mr.  Moody's 
address,  and  that  was  my  first  service  of  song  in  Eng- 
land. It  was  with  some  difficulty  that  I  could  get  the 
people  to  sing,  as  they  had  not  been  accustomed  to 
the  kind  of  songs  that  I  was  using. 

The  next  evening  there  was  an  attendance  of 
about  two  hundred  persons.  It  was  while  these  serv- 
ices were  held  at  York  that  the  now  eminent  minister 
of  London,  the  Rev.  F.  B.  Meyer,  received  a  great 
spiritual  quickening,  according  to  his  own  testimony. 
From  this  small  beginning  the  attendance  of  our 
meetings  continued  to  increase,  until  not  less  than 
twenty  thousand  persons  attended  the  meetings  at  the 
Agricultural  Hall,  London. 

The  most  effective  solo  used  at  this  time  was 
*'Jesus  of  Nazareth  passeth  by,"  which  I  sang  from  a 
small  scrap-book  of  special  pieces  prepared  for  my  own 
use.  The  demand  for  copies  of  this  song  became  so 
great  that  I  had  a  large  number  of  copies  of  the  words 
printed  to  supply  those  who  wished  to  have  them,  but 
this  supply  was  soon  exhausted,  and  it  became  evident 
that  something  must  be  done  to  furnish  hymns  and 
tunes  for  our  meetings. 


20  Sankeys  Story 


After  remaining  at  York  five  weeks,  we  were  in- 
vited to  go  to  Sunderland,  on  the  northern  coast  of 
England,  and  while  there  I  wrote  to  London,  offering 
to  give  my  selection  of  songs  to  the  publishers  of 
Philip  Phillips'  hymn-book,  ''Hallowed  Songs,''  free 
of  charge,  if  they  would  print  them.  This  they  re- 
spectfully declined.  About  this  time  R.  C.  Morgan, 
one  of  the  publishers  and  proprietors  of  ''The  London 
Christian,"  came  to  Sunderland  to  write  up  the  work, 
and  on  hearing  of  the  declination  of  the  other  publish- 
ers to  take  the  hymns,  offered  to  take  them  and  pub- 
lish them  in  small  pamphlet  form.  So  I  cut  from  my 
scrap-book  twenty-three  pieces,  rolled  them  up,  and 
wrote  on  them  the  words,  "  Sacred  Songs  and  Solos, 
sung  by  Ira  D.  Sankey  at  the  meetings  of  Mr.  Moody 
of  Chicago."  This  book,  together  with  the  edition  oi 
words  only,  has  now  grown  into  a  volume  of  twelve 
hundred  pieces,  and  up  to  the  present  time  has  had 
possibly  the  largest  sale  of  any  book  except  the  Bible. 

During  all  our  campaigns  abroad  it  was  our  cus- 
tom to  rest  on  Saturdays,  and  to  make  excursions  into 
the  country  on  that  day,  whenever  it  was  convenient. 
While  at  Sunderland,  one  Saturday,  we  took  a  cab  and 
drove  a  few  miles  northward  along  the  seashore.  Com- 
ing to  an  almost  perpendicular  cliff  rising  hundreds  of 
feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  we  descended  by  a  stair- 
way to  the  beach  below.  For  a  while  we  enjoyed  our- 
selves by  walking  along  the  shore,  examining  the  beau- 
tiful shells  left  exposed  by  the  tide,  which  had  gone 
out  before  we  arrived.  Our  attention  was  soon  ar- 
rested by  some  one  shouting  from  the  top  of  the  cliff. 
We  saw  a  man  wildly  beckoning  to  us  to  return.  On 


Of  His  Own  Life 


21 


looking  around  we  discovered  that  the  tide  had  risen 
and  had  filled  a  deep  channel  between  us  and  the  stair- 
way. It  was  clear  that  we  had  no  time  to  lose.  Mr. 
Moody  suggested  that  I  should  plunge  in  and  lead  the 
way  toward  the  cHff  as  quickly  as  possible,  and  while 
T  did  so  he  stood  looking  on,  convulsed  with  laughter 
at  my  frantic  strides  through  the  water  over  the  slip- 
pery stones.  But  I  reached  a  place  of  safety.  Then 
the  tables  were  turned,  and  it  was  my  opportunity  to 
enjoy  a  sight  not  soon  to  be  forgotten,  as  my  friend 
slowly  and  with  considerable  difficulty  waded  through 
the  constantly  rising  water  to  the  place  where  I  stood. 
We  were  to  hold  a  Bible-reading  that  afternoon  at 
three  o'clock.  Not  having  time  to  go  to  our  lodgings 
for  a  change  of  clothing,  we  at  once  proceeded  to  the 
place  of  the  meeting,  and  we  held  the  service  in  our 
wet  clothes  and  shoes. 

It  was  a  dismal  night  in  November,  1873,  when 
our  train  rolled  into  the  station  in  the  city  of  Edin- 
burgh. Desiring  to  avoid  the  formality  of  a  reception 
at  the  hands  of  the  committee  and  friends  who  had 
invited  us  to  conduct  a  series  of  evangelistic  meetings 
in  their  city,  we  had  refrained  from  notifying  them  as 
to  the  hour  of  our  arrival.  Securing  public  cabs  from 
the  numerous  array  massed  about  the  station,  we  were 
soon  rattling  along  the  well-lighted  streets  to  the 
places  where  we  were  to  abide. 

I  had  selected  a  hotel  on  the  principal  street,  not 
far  from  the  Walter  Scott  monument,  and  after  being 
assigned  my  room  walked  out  on  the  crowded  thor- 
oughfare for  a  stroll.  I  had  not  proceeded  half  a 
block  when  a  hand  was  laid  on  my  shoulder,  and  a 


22  Sankey's  Story 


voice  said,  xA.h,  Mr.  Sankey,  is  this  you  ?  When  did 
you  arrive,  and  where  is  Mr.  Moody?" 

I  gave  the  desired  information  in  a  few  words 
and  then  made  bold  to  ask,  "And,  pray,  who  are  you  ?  " 

The  chairman  of  your  committee,"  he  re- 
sponded. ''And  I've  been  waiting  for  days  to  hear 
when  you  would  arrive.  Come  away.  You're  not  to 
be  stopping  at  a  public  hotel  when  there  are  a  hundred 
homes  ready  to  receive  you." 

So,  hurrying  me  into  a  cab,  and  arranging  with 
the  hotel-keeper  to  release  my  room,  I  was  soon  wel- 
comed into  one  of  the  most  delightful  homes  in  all 
Edinburgh.  It  was  while  abiding  in  this  house  that  I 
wrote  the  music  of  my  first  Gospel  song. 

Our  first  meeting  in  Edinburgh  was  advertised  to 
be  held  on  Sunday  evening,  November  23,  and  long 
before  the  hour  for  commencing  the  service  arrived 
the  whole  building  was  densely  packed  to  its  utmost 
corners ;  even  the  lobbies,  stairs,  and  entrance  were 
crowded  with  people,  while  more  than  two  thousand 
were  turned  away. 

The  first  announcement  made  was  a  sad  disap- 
pointment to  the  congregation,  for  it  was  that  Mr. 
Moody  could  not  be  present,  he  having  contracted  a 
severe  cold  the  day  before,  while  on  the  train  en  route 
from  Carlisle.  It  was  further  announced  that  Mr. 
Sankey  would  conduct  the  service  of  song,  and  the^ 
Rev.  J.  H.  Wilson  would  preach. 

This  was  indeed  a  trying  hour  for  the  singer. 
Much  had  been  said  and  written  in  Scotland  against 
the  use  of  human  hymns  "  in  public  worship,  and  even 
more  had  been  uttered  against  the  employment  of  the 


Of  His  Own  Life 


kist  o'  whistles,"  the  term  by  which  they  desig- 
nated the  small  cabinet  organ  I  employed  as  an  ac- 
companiment to  my  voice. 

A  goodly  number  of  ministers  and  prominent  lay- 
men were  present.  After  the  opening  prayer,  I  asked 
all  to  join  in  singing  a  portion  of  the  One  Hundredth 
Psalm.  To  this  they  responded  with  a  will,  as  it  was 
safe  and  common  ground  for  all  denominations,  and 
no  questions  were  raised  as  to  Mr.  Rouse  having  in- 
troduced anything  human  "  into  David's  version  as 
found  in  the  Bible.  This  was  followed  by  reading  the 
Scriptures  and  prayer. 

The  service  having  been  thus  opened  in  regular 
order,  we  now  faced  the  problem  of  ^'singing  the 
Gosper' — a  term  first  devised  and  used  by  the  Rev. 
Arthur  A.  Rees  of  Sunderland,  England,  some  months 
before,  in  advertising  our  meetings  in  that  city,  and 
since  then  much  discussed  in  Scotland.  The  song 
selected  for  my  first  solo  was  ''J^^us  of  Nazareth 
passeth  by."  The  intense  silence  that  pervaded  that 
great  audience  during  the  singing  of  this  song  at  once 
assured  me  that  even  "  human  hymns,"  sung  in  a 
prayerful  spirit,  were  indeed  likely  to  be  used  of  God 
to  arrest  attention  and  convey  Gospel  truth  to  the 
hearts  of  men  in  bonny  Scotland,  even  as  they  had  in 
other  places. 

After  a  powerful  address  by  Dr.  Wilson,  and  a 
closing  prayer,  I  was  requested  to  sing  another  solo. 
Selecting  *'Hold  the  Fort,"  then  comparatively  new 
in  Edinburgh,  the  audience  was  requested  to  join  in 
singing  the  chorus,  "  Hold  the  fort,  for  I  am  coming," 
which  they  did  with  such  h^artines^  ^nd  such  power 


24  Sankey's  Story 


that  I  was  further  convinced  that  Gospel  songs  would 
prove  as  useful  and  acceptable  to  the  masses  in  Edin- 
burgh  as  they  had  in  the  cities  of  York  and  Newcastle 
in  England. 

In  our  meetings  held  prior  to  entering  Scotland, 
it  had  been  our  custom  to  have  the  committee  in 
charge  of  the  various  meetings — often  three  and  four, 
in  different  localities,  in  a  day — see  that  organs  were 
placed  in  the  halls  and  chapels  ready  for  use.  In 
Edinburgh  we  failed  to  inform  the  committee  that  upon 
them  would  devolve  the  matter  of  placing  the  organs 
in  each  hall  and  church  as  needed.  The  consequence 
of  this  oversight  was  that  at  our  second  meeting,  held 
in  Barclay  Free  Church,  there  was  no  organ  provided, 
and  therefore  we  could  have  no  solo  singing  or  Gospel 
hymns. 

When  the  committee  discovered,  about  the  hour  for 
commencing  the  service,  that  the  organ  was  not  pres- 
ent, but  away  off  at  the  Music  Hall,  they  immediately 
sent  a  deputation  after  the  missing  instrument,  who  re- 
turned with  speed,  the  deputation  inside  and  the  organ 
on  top  of  the  conveyance. 

They  hoped  to  arrive  at  the  meeting  in  season  for 
the  closing  exercises,  and  this  end  they  certainly  would 
have  attained  had  not  the  Jehu  in  charge  been  over- 
zealous  in  the  use  of  his  whip.  In  whirling  round  a 
corner  near  the  church  at  too  great  a  speed  he  over- 
turned the  vehicle,  rolling  both  deputation  and  ''kist  o' 
whistles"  into  the  middle  of  the  street. 

The  ^'kist''  was  in  a  sadly  demoralized  condition, 
and  its  appearance  now  strangely  suggestive  of  its 
Scotch  name.    The  outcome  of  the  disaster  was  that 


Of  His  Own  Life 


25 


Mr.  Moody  had  to  conduct  the  second  meeting  alone, 
as  I  had  led  the  first  one. 

These  occurrences  evidently  greatly  pleased  some 
of  the  Scotch  folks,  as  they  were  heard  to  say :  ''It  had 
a  fine  tendency  to  break  up  any  scheme  the  evangelists 
might  have  had  in  their  working  together." 

The  third  meeting  was  held  in  the  same  church, 
and  great  interest  was  manifested  by  the  citizens.  The 
question  of  the  solo  singing,  as  to  its  propriety  and 
usefulness,  was  not  as  yet  fully  understood  or  admit- 
ted ;  hence  it  was  with  much  fear  and  trepidation  that 
we  thus  really  entered,  this  third  night,  upon  our  three 
months'  campaign. 

As  I  took  my  seat  at  the  instrument  on  that,  to 
me,  most  memorable  evening,  I  discovered,  to  my 
great  surprise,  that  Dr.  Horatius  Bonar  was  seated 
close  by  my  organ,  right  in  front  of  the  pulpit.  The 
first  Gospel-song  music  I  had  ever  composed,  written 
since  coming  to  Edinburgh,  was  set  to  words  which 
he  wrote — ''Yet  there  is  room.'' 

Of  all  men  in  Scotland  he  was  the  one  man  con- 
cerning whose  decision  I  was  most  solicitous.  He 
was,  indeed,  my  ideal  hymn-writer,  the  prince  among 
hymnists  of  his  day  and  generation.  And  yet  he  would 
not  sing  one  of  his  own  beautiful  hymns  in  his  own  con- 
gregation, such  as  "  I  heard  the  voice  of  Jesus  say,'' 
or  "  I  was  a  wandering  sheep,"  because  he  ministered 
to  a  church  that  believed  in  the  use  of  the  Psalms  only. 

With  fear  and  trembling  I  announced  as  a  solo  the 
song  "Free  from  the  Law,  oh,  happy  condition." 

No  prayer  having  been  offered  for  this  part  of  the 
service,  and  feeling  that  the  singing  might  prove  only 


26  Sankeys  Story 


an  entertainment,  and  not  a  spiritual  blessing,  I  re- 
quested the  whole  congregation  to  join  me  in  a  word 
of  prayer,  asking  God  to  bless  the  truth  about  to  be 
sung. 

In  the  prayer  my  anxiety  was  relieved.  Believing 
and  rejoicing  in  the  glorious  truth  contained  in  the 
song,  I  sang  it  through  to  the  end. 

At  the  close  of  IMr.  i\Ioody's  address,  Dr.  Bonar 
turned  toward  me  with  a  smile  on  his  venerable  face, 
and  reaching  out  his  hand  he  said :  ^^'ell,  ]\Ir.  San- 
key,  you  sang  the  Gospel  to-night." 

And  thus  the  way  was  opened  for  my  mission  of 
sacred  song  in  Scotland. 

On  another  occasion,  as  we  were  holding  meetings 
in  the  Free  Assembly  Hall,  while  I  was  singing  a  solo 
a  woman's  shrill  voice  w^as  heard  in  the  gallery,  as 
she  made  her  way  toward  the  door,  crying :  Let  me 
oot!  Let  me  oot!  What  would  John  Knox  think 
of  the  like  of  yon?  "  At  the  conclusion  of  the  solo  I 
went  across  the  street  to  sing  at  an  overflow  meeting 
in  the  famous  Tolbooth  Church.  I  had  just  begun  to 
sing,  when  the  same  voice  was  again  heard,  Let  me 
oot !  Let  me  oot !  What  would  John  Knox  think  of 
the  like  of  yon  ?  " 

In  London,  a  little  later,  Gladstone,  accompanied 
by  Lord  Kinnaird,  visited  one  of  the  meetings  w^e  were 
holding  at  Agricultural  Hall.  At  the  conclusion  of 
the  address  Mr.  Moody  was  introduced  to  the  Grand 
Old  Man  of  England  by  Lord  Kinnaird.  ''You  have 
a  fine  body  for  your  profession,''  remarked  Mr.  Glad- 
stone. ''  Yes,  if  I  only  had  your  head  on  it,"  Mr. 
Moody  replied,  and  then  hurried  away  to  an  inquiry- 


Of  His  Own  Life 


27 


meeting.  Queen  Victoria,  the  Princess  of  Wales,  and 
other  members  of  the  royal  family,  attended  a  number 
of  our  meetings  at  Her  Majesty's  Theater,  occupying 
their  private  box.  I  was  told  by  the  Duchess  of  Suth- 
erland that  the  Princess  was  very  fond  of  Sacred 
Songs  and  Solos,"  a  copy  of  which  I  had  the  pleasure 
of  presenting  to  her.  When  the  weather  was  not  pro- 
pitious and  she  remained  at  home  from  her  church 
service,  she  w^ould  gather  her  children  around  the 
piano  and  sing  by  the  hour. 

We  remained  in  Great  Britain  this  time  for  two 
years,  holding  meetings  in  many  of  the  leading  cities 
of  England,  Scotland  and  Ireland.  Some  of  the  come- 
dians at  the  theaters  tried  to  make  hits  by  changing 
our  hymns  and  using  our  names  on  the  stage.  This 
was  always  resented  by  the  audiences. 

In  imitation  of  the  popular  song,  He's  a  Fraud," 
an  actor  one  evening  sung  at  the  Royal  Theater  in 
Manchester  some  doggerel  beginning,  ''We  know  that 
Moody  and  Sankey  are  doing  some  good  in  their  way." 
It  received  both  cheers  and  hisses  from  the  audience 
at  first,  but  on  a  repetition  of  the  words  the  displeasure 
was  so  great  that  the  comedian  had  to  leave  the  stage. 
At  a  circus  in  Dublin,  on  one  occasion,  one  clown  said 
to  another,  I  am  rather  Moody  to-night ;  how  do  you 
feel  ?  "  The  other  responded,  I  feel  rather  Sankey- 
monious."  This  by-play  was  not  only  met  with  hisses, 
but  the  whole  audience  arose  and  joined  with  tremen- 
dous effect  in  singing  one  of  our  hymns,  Hold  the 
fort,  for  I  am  coming." 

While  holding  meetings  at  Burdett  road,  London, 
in  1874,  Mr.  Moody  and  I  one  Saturday  took  a  drive 


28  Sankey's  Story 


out  to  Epping  Forest.  There  we  visited  a  gypsy  camp. 
While  stopping  to  speak  to  two  brothers  who  had  been 
converted  and  were  doing  good  missionary  work,  a 
few  young  gypsy  lads  came  up  to  our  carriage.  I  put 
my  hand  on  the  head  of  one  of  them  and  said :  May 
the  Lord  make  a  preacher  of  you,  my  boy !  " 

Fifteen  years  later,  when  Gypsy  Smith  made  his 
first  visit  to  America,  I  had  the  pleasure  of  taking  him 
for  a  drive  in  Brooklyn.  While  passing  through  Pros- 
pect Park  he  asked  me  : 

Do  you  remember  driving  out  from  London  one 
day  to  a  gypsy  camp  at  Epping  Forest  ?  "  I  replied 
that  I  did.  "  Do  you  remember  a  little  gypsy  boy 
standing  by  your  carriage,''  he  asked  again,  and 
you  put  your  hand  on  his  head,  saying  that  you  hoped 
he  would  be  a  preacher?"  ''Yes,  I  remember  it 
well."  I  am  that  boy,"  said  Gypsy  Smith.  My  sur- 
prise can  better  be  imagined  than  described.  Little  had 
I  thought  that  the  successful  evangelist  and  fine  gospel 
singer  of  whom  I  had  heard  so  much,  and  whom  I  had 
so  much  admired,  was  the  little  boy  I  had  met  in  the 
gypsy  camp.  Truly  God  has  granted  my  wish  of  fif- 
teen years  before,  and  had  made  a  mighty  preacher 
of  the  gypsy  boy. 

During  our  meetings  in  Her  Majesty's  Theater  at 
Pall  Mail  a  Mr.  Studd,  who  had  a  great  many  fast 
horses  and  fox-hounds,  gave  them  all  up  and  became 
a  follower  of  Christ.  Mr.  Studd's  son  was  attending 
Eton  College,  at  Windsor,  near  the  Queen's  castle. 
He  and  Mr.  Graham,  of  Glasgow,  a  member  of  Par- 
liament, invited  us  to  go  to  Windsor  and  hold  meetings 
for  the  young  Lords  in  the  college.    When  it  was  ru- 


Of  His  Own  Life 


29 


mored  that  we  would  accept  the  invitation,  the  subject 
was  taken  up  and  discussed  in  ParHament. 

Although  we  were  accustomed  to  devote  Saturdays 
to  rest,  we  decided  to  give  one  Saturday  to  Eton  Col- 
lege. When  we  arrived  at  Windsor  Station  we  were 
met  by  Mr.  Studd  and  Mr.  Graham,  and  taken  to  the 
home  of  a  merchant.  As  there  was  so  much  excite- 
ment in  the  town  because  of  our  coming,  it  was  de- 
cided that  it  would  be  best  to  hold  the  meetings  in  this 
gentleman's  garden.  Mr.  Graham  gathered  about 
fifty  of  the  students  under  a  large  apple-tree  in  the  gar- 
den. There  Mr.  Moody  gave  a  short  address  on  John 
3 :  16,  and  I  sang  a  number  of  solos,  including  "  Pass 
me  not,  O  gentle  Saviour."  We  also  distributed  copies 
of  "  Sacred  Songs  and  Solos  "  among  the  students, 
who  took  an  enthusiastic  part  in  the  singing.  Mr. 
Studd's  son,  who  afterward  became  known  as  one  of 
the  chief  cricketers  of  England,  was  converted  at  this 
meeting. 

On  one  of  our  subsequent  visits  to  Great  Britain 
this  young  man  got  up  a  large  petition,  inviting  us  to 
Cambridge.  The  invitation  to  Cambridge  we  gladly 
accepted,  and  arrived  there  on  Guy  Fawkes  night. 
When  we  entered  the  Corn  Exchange,  which  was  the 
largest  meeting  room  in  town,  we  found  it  filled  with 
students.  It  was  the  largest  religious  meeting  that 
had  ever  been  held  in  Cambridge.  On  reaching  the  plat- 
form we  found  Mr.  George  E.  Morgan,  of  ''The  Chris- 
tian,'' London,  who  was  then  a  Cambridge  student, 
conducting  the  singing.  Mr.  Moody  asked  one  of  the 
Dons  to  lead  in  prayer,  after  which  he  called  upon  me 
to  sing  "  The  Ninety  and  Nine."    The  students  lis- 


30  Sankey  s  Story 


tened  to  the  first  verse  in  perfect  silence,  but  at  its 
conclusion  they  vigorously  beat  the  floor  with  canes 
and  umbrellas,  and  cried,  Hear,  hear ! This  demon- 
stration followed  each  verse  to  the  end.  Mr.  Moody's 
address  for  half  an  hour  held  the  undivided  attention 
of  his  congregation.  At  the  conclusion  some  of  the 
students  attempted  to  stampede  the  meeting,  but  a 
large  majority  remained  and  gathered  around  us,  say- 
ing :  These  men  must  have  fair  play  while  they  are  in 
Cambridge.''  Thus  began  a  great  revival  in  that  town. 
Hundreds  of  young  men  dated  their  conversion  from 
that  time. 

The  news  of  the  religious  work  at  Cambridge  nat- 
urally spread  to  Oxford,  and  we  were  invited  to  hold 
meetings  there.  We  had  hoped  that  the  success  of  our 
meetings  at  Cambridge  would  make  the  way  easier  at 
Oxford.  But  a  similar  process  had  to  be  gone  through 
there.  We  stopped  at  the  Bull's  Head  Hotel,  and 
held  meetings  for  two  weeks  in  a  large  hall  connected 
with  that  building,  and  eventually  a  large  number  of 
students  took  their  stand  on  the  Lord's  side. 

On  the  3d  of  August,  1875,  a  great  farewell  meet- 
ing was  held  for  us  in  Liverpool.  Several  addresses 
were  made  by  prominent  speakers,  and  one  of  some 
length  by  Mr.  Moody.  As  we  took  our  departure  on 
the  Spain  "  we  were  greeted  with  the  most  enthu- 
siastic applause  and  evidences  of  good  will,  the  great 
crowd  on  the  shore  singing  several  of  our  hymns  as  the 
vessel  moved  out  of  sight. 

After  our  return  to  America,  the  first  meeting 
held  was  at  Northfield,  on  the  9th  of  September,  1875. 
There,  among  many  others,  Mr.  Moody's  mother,  who 


Of  His  Own  Life  31 


was  a  Unitarian,  stood  up  for  prayer.  At  this  meet- 
ing I  first  sang  "  The  Ninety  and  Nine "  in  this 
country. 

Brooklyn  was  our  next  place  to  visit.  Although 
the  first  meeting,  held  in  Clermont  Avenue  Rink,  Octo- 
ber 24,  was  at  half  past  eight  in  the  morning,  the  hall, 
which  had  chairs  for  five  thousand  persons,  was  packed 
full,  and  thousands  were  turned  away  for  want  of 
room.  I  was  assisted  in  the  singing  here  by  a  choir 
of  two  hundred  and  fifty  voices.  My  first  solo  was, 
"  Rejoice  and  be  glad !  the  Redeemer  has  come ! At 
the  second  meeting,  in  the  afternoon,  fifteen  thousand 
persons  had  to  be  turned  away  for  lack  of  accommo- 
dation. From  two  to  three  hundred  requests  for 
prayer  would  often  be  announced  at  these  meetings. 

At  one  of  them  a  fine-looking  young  man  came 
into  the  inquiry-room  along  with  a  number  of  others. 
I  asked  him  if  he  was  willing  to  accept  Christ  as  his 
only  Saviour.  He  bowed  his  head  in  his  hands  as 
he  sat  by  my  side.  With  great  earnestness,  while  his 
whole  frame  shook  with  deepest  feeling,  he  replied : 
Jesus  will  not  accept  me.'' 

"  Why  not?'' 
Because  I  have  been  an  infidel  for  many  years, 
a  follower  of  Charles  Bradlaugh,  and  for  the  last  eight 
years  have  not  ceased  to  speak  in  private  and  public 
against  Christ.  I  have  traveled  over  nearly  all  the 
world,  and  have  spoken  everywhere  against  him  and 
all  those  who  professed  to  be  Christians ;  now  I  fear  he 
will  not  forgive  me  for  what  I  have  done." 

Do  you  want  him  to  forgive  you  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Well,  sir,"  he  said,  "  I  do  not  know  what  is  the 


32  Sankey's  Story 


matter  with  me  or  why  I  am  here  to-night.  Some 
power  that  1  do  not  understand  has  been  working  upon 
me  for  the  last  two  days,  and  I  am  in  a  despondent 
state  of  mind." 

I  Hfted  my  heart  in  prayer  that  I  might  make  no 
mistake  in  deaHng  with  this  man.  I  waited  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  then  said,  My  dear  friend,  what  you  need 
to-night  is  Christ;  he  will  dispel  your  gloom  and 
sorrow.'' 

But,"  he  exclaimed,  arousing  himself  from  what 
seemed  to  be  a  deep  reverie,  I  have  fought  against 
him  all  my  life,  and  I  thought  I  was  right,  too." 

"  Did  you  have  peace  in  your  heart  when  you  were 
preaching  against  Christ  ?  " 

He  looked  up  at  me.  "  No,  I  was  a  coward,"  he 
confessed.  I  remember,  while  coming  home  from  a 
long  journey  on  the  sea,  we  were  one  night  driven  by 
the  storm  near  the  rocks  off  a  certain  cape,  and  when 
I  thought  we  were  sure  to  go  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea, 
I  got  down  on  my  knees  and  prayed  to  God  to  save 
us.  The  storm  died,  and  with  it  went  my  prayers. 
For  as  soon  as  I  thought  we  were  safe,  like  a  coward 
I  went  back  to  my  old  ways,  and  denied  that  there 
was  a  God." 

Well,"  I  said,  "  let  that  go.  What  brought  you 
here  to-night?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  he  replied.  I  have  not  been 
in  church  for  eight  years;  I  have  not  spoken  to  a 
Christian  in  that  time,  as  I  have  lived  entirely  among 
infidels  and  skeptics.  But  about  a  year  ago  I  received 
a  letter  from  my  poor  old  mother,  away  over  in  Dun- 
dee, Scotland.  She  asked  me  to  make  her  one  promise. 


Of  His  Ow7i  Life 


33 


that  when  Mr.  Moody  and  Mr.  Sankey  came  back  to 
America  I  would  go  to  hear  them,  if  they  came  to 
the  place  where  I  was.  I  answered  her  that  I  would. 
When  you  came  here  I  thought  I  would  have  to  keep 
my  word  to  my  mother,  so  I  went  to  the  Rink  two 
nights  in  succession.  Since  that  time  I  have  had  no 
rest.  Yesterday  and  to-day  I  have  had  to  close  up 
my  office.  I  am  a  civil  engineer.  I  have  been  walk- 
ing the  streets  all  day,  thinking,  thinking.  Not  being 
acquainted  with  any  Christians  to  whom  I  could  speak, 
I  thought  I  would  go  once  more  to  the  Rink.  And 
now  here  I  am,  talking  to  you." 

My  dear  friend,"  I  said,  it  is  an  answer  to  your 
mother's  prayer.  She  may  be  praying  for  her  wan- 
dering boy  this  very  night.  Now,  do  not  delay  any 
longer.    Yield  to  Christ  and  he  will  receive  you." 

He  bowed  his  head,  while  his  trembling  form  told 
how  deeply  his  heart  was  moved.  After  a  hard  strug- 
gle he  took  my  hand  and  said :  "  By  the  grace  of  God 
I  take  Jesus  Christ  as  my  Saviour  now !  " 

After  a  word  of  prayer  I  asked  him  if  he  would 
not  write  to  Scotland  at  once  and  tell  his  mother  all 
about  it,  and  he  promised  that  he  would.  A  few  even- 
ings later  I  met  him  at  the  door  of  the  Rink.  As  he 
came  up  to  shake  hands  and  bid  me  good-bye,  I  asked 
him  if  he  had  written  to  his  mother. 

Oh,  yes,"  said  he,  "  but  not  until  I  had  sent  her 
a  cable  dispatch  first." 

What  did  you  say  in  the  dispatch  ?  "  I  asked. 

Well,  I  just  said,  '  I've  found  Tesus,'  and  signed 
my  name  to  it." 

"  Thank  the  Lord,"  said  I. 


34 


Sankey  s  Story 


''Yes/'  he  exclaimed,  ''that  is  just  what  my  dear 
old  mother  cabled  back  to  me,  '  Thank  the  Lord,  O 
my  soul.'  " 

Our  first  m.eeting  in  Philadelphia  was  held  on 
November  24,  in  the  old  Pennsylvania  Railroad  Depot, 
which  John  \\^anamaker  fitted  up  for  our  use.  It  had 
a  seating  capacity  of  more  than  ten  thousand  persons. 
Here,  as  in  Brooklyn,  the  leading  ministers  gave  their 
hearty  support  to  the  work  and  in  every  way  expressed 
their  approval  of  the  eflfort.  On  one  occasion  the 
meetings  were  attended  by  President  U.  S.  Grant,  sev- 
eral Senators,  and  members  of  the  Supreme  Court. 
During  my  stay  in  Philadelphia  I  often  visited  the 
home  of  Henry  Clay  Trumbull,  then  the  editor  of  "  The 
Sunday  School  Times,''  who  gave  us  his  heartiest  sup- 
port in  every  way.  Among  the  laymen  who  were 
very  efficient  helpers  at  our  meetings  were  John  Wana- 
maker  and  George  H.  Stuart.  ]\Ir.  Wanamaker's 
special  meetings  for  young  men  were  largely  attended. 
Under  Aloody's  powerful  preaching  many  conversions 
took  place  in  Philadelphia. 

A  number  of  Princeton  students  attended  the 
meetings,  and  an  invitation  was  extended  to  us  to  go 
to  Princeton  to  hold  meetings  there  for  the  college 
men,  which  we  were  glad  to  accept.  In  the  Princeton 
meetings  w^e  had  the  warm  sympathy  and  co-operation 
of  President  ]\IcCosh.  Among  the  converts  at  Prince- 
ton was  Wilton  Merle  Smith,  now  one  of  the  leading 
ministers  of  New  York  City. 

The  old  Hippodrome  in  New  York,  located  where 
Madison  Square  Garden  is  now,  was  the  scene  of  our 
next  meetings,  in  February,  ]\Iarch  and  xA^pril  of  1876 


Of  His  Own  Life 


35 


It  was  the  largest  place  of  assembly  in  the  city,  though 
a  very  unattractive  structure.  The  building  had  never 
been  used  for  religious  meetings  before,  but  was  a 
place  for  sport  and  gaiety.  The  hall  which  we  used, 
the  largest  in  the  building,  seated  eight  thousand.  A 
monster  stage  was  built,  large  enough  to  hold  the 
choir  of  six  hundred  voices,  and  still  to  leave  room 
for  at  least  four  hundred  visiting  clergymen  and  guests. 
Here  for  the  first  time  I  sang  Waiting  and  Watch- 
ing,'' which  afterward  became  a  great  favorite.  Thur- 
low  Weed,  who  frequently  attended  the  meetings  and 
occupied  a  seat  at  the  reporters'  desk,  would  often 
have  written  requests  laid  on  my  organ  asking  me  to 
sing  this  hymn.  The  New  York  meetings  were  very 
successful.  One  day,  near  the  close  of  the  ten  weeks' 
campaign,  an  audience  assembled  which  numbered 
more  than  four  thousand  persons,  all  of  whom  con- 
fessed that  they  had  been  converted  at  these  meetings. 

Our  next  large  meetings  were  held  in  Chicago 
during  the  fall  of  1876,  in  a  large  Tabernacle  erected 
for  the  occasion  by  John  V.  Farwell.  It  was  capable 
of  seating  more  than  eight  thousand.  At  one  of  these 
meetings  Mr.  Moody's  attention  was  attracted  by  an 
usher  with  a  wand  in  his  hand,  seating  the  people  as 
they  came  in.  Mr.  Moody  did  not  like  the  man's  ap- 
pearance. He  asked  the  chairman  of  the  committee, 
Mr.  Harvey,  who  the  usher  was.  Mr.  Harvey  replied 
that  he  did  not  know,  but  would  go  and  see.  Taking 
the  man  out  into  the  inquiry-room,  Mr.  Harvey  learned 
that  his  name  was  Guiteau — the  man  who  afterward 
shot  President  Garfield.  So  great  was  Mr.  Moody's 
power  in  reading  character ! 


36  Sankey's  Story 


At  the  close  of  the  three  months'  mission  in  Chi- 
cago a  farewell  service  was  held  for  those  alone  who 
professed  to  have  been  brought  to  Christ  during  the 
meetings,  and  it  was  attended  by  six  thousand  persons. 

Then,  for  six  months,  we  conducted  meetings  in 
Boston.  On  an  average,  three  meetings  a  day  were 
held,  in  a  large  temporary  building  erected  for  the 
occasion  by  a  committee  of  wealthy  gentlemen.  Here 
also  we  had  the  hearty  co-operation  of  many  promi- 
nent ministers  and  laymen,  among  whom  Dr.  A.  J. 
Gordon,  Dr.  Joseph  Cook,  Phillips  Brooks  and  Henry 
M.  Moore  may  be  mentioned.  Among  those  who 
professed  conversion  at  these  meetings  was  H.  M.  F. 
Marshall,  who  afterward  removed  to  Northfield,  and 
there,  under  Mr.  Moody's  direction,  erected  a  number 
of  the  school  buildings. 

New  Haven  was  our  next  field  of  labor.  Many 
of  the  Yale  University  students  were  here  converted, 
and  afterward  became  useful  ministers  of  the  Gospel 
throughout  the  country. 

At  Hartford,  which  we  next  visited,  Mark  Twain 
attended  several  of  our  meetings.  On  one  occasion 
P.  T.  Barnum,  the  famous  showman,  attended  and  re- 
mained for  an  inquiry-meeting,  where  it  was  my  priv- 
ilege to  speak  to  him  in  regard  to  his  spiritual  condi- 
tion. In  our  conversation  he  said :  "  Mr.  Sankey,  you 
go  on  singing  '  The  Ninety  and  Nine,'  and  when  you 
get  that  lost  sheep  in  the  fold  we  will  all  be  saved." 
I  afterward  learned  that  he  was  a  UniversaHst. 

For  the  next  six  months  we  conducted  meetings 
in  the  churches  of  St.  Louis.  Able  assistance  was  ren- 
dered by  the  Rev.  J.  H.  Brookes  and  other  eminent 


Of  His  Own  Life  37 


ministers.  The  usual  good  results  attended  our  efforts. 
At  one  of  the  inquiry-meetings  I  asked  a  fine-looking 
man  as  he  was  leaving  the  meeting,  if  he  was  a  Chris- 
tian.   "  No,"  he  replied,    I  am  a  Missourian.'' 

Our  work  spread  out  in  all  directions,  and  hun- 
dreds of  cities  were  visited,  not  only  throughout  the 
United  States,  but  in  Canada,  and  even  in  Mexico, 
much  blessing  attending  all  the  services  wherever  we 
went. 

On  one  occasion,  when  I  was  leaving  Chicago  for 
New  York  on  an  evening  train,  a  gentleman  took  his 
seat  beside  me.  For  some  time  nothing  was  said,  but 
after  a  while  we  got  into  a  general  conversation.  After 
discussing  the  weather  and  politics,  we  entered  upon 
the  subject  of  religion.  This  finally  led  to  the  discus- 
sion of  Moody  and  Sankey.  The  stranger  said  that  he 
had  never  had  the  pleasure  of  hearing  either  of  them. 
When  I  told  him  that  I  had  often  heard  Moody  preach 
and  Sankey  sing,  he  seemed  much  interested  and 
asked : 

"  What  kind  of  folks  are  they  ?  " 

"  Oh,  they  are  just  common  folks  like  you  and 
me,"  I  replied. 

His  daughter,  he  said,  had  a  cabinet  organ  and 
they  were  all  very  fond  of  the  "  Gospel  Hymns,"  and 
he  was  sorry  that  he  had  not  had  the  opportunity  to 
hear  Sankey  sing  '  The  Ninety  and  Nine  '  before  he 
died.  I  told  him  I  was  much  surprised,  and  asked 
him  what  proof  he  had  of  Sankey's  death.  He  replied 
that  he  had  seen  it  in  the  papers. 

It  must  be  true  if  you  have  seen  it  in  the  papers," 
I  said. 


38  Sankey's  Story 


By  this  time  we  were  nearing  the  station  where 
my  friend  was  to  get  out.  Hearing  the  whistle  blow, 
he  looked  out  of  the  window  and  remarked :  I  have 
enjoyed  your  company  very  much,  but  will  soon  have 
to  leave  you  now." 

I  hardly  think  it  is  fair  that  we  should  part  with- 
out telling  you  that  I  am  one  of  the  men  we  have  been 
talking  about/'  I  said. 

"  Why,  who  are  you  ?    he  asked. 
I  am  what  is  left  of  Sankey." 

At  this  he  reached  for  his  gripsack,  and  giving  me 
a  quizzical  look  he  said:  ''You  can't  play  that  on  me, 
old  fellow ;  Sankey  is  dead."  Then  he  rushed  for  the 
door,  leaving  me  to  continue  my  journey  alone. 

During  the  years  which  followed  we  made  several 
trips  to  Great  Britain  and  held  meetings  in  hundreds 
of  places,  large  and  small.  In  the  campaign  of  i88i-'84 
we  held  meetings  in  ninety-nine  different  places  in 
Scotland  alone.  Mr.  Moody  was  once  asked  if  he  had 
kept  any  record  of  the  number  of  converts  at  his  meet- 
ings. 

"  Records ! "  he  exclaimed,  ''why,  they  are  only 
kept  in  heaven." 

In  one  of  the  recent  revival  meetings  at  Sheffield, 
conducted  by  Torrey  and  Alexander,  a  man  gave  the 
following  testimony :  "  I  found  Christ  in  this  hall  in 
1882,  when  Moody  and  Sankey  were  preaching  the 
Gospel ;  I  was  brought  face  to  face  with  God,  and  in  the 
after-meeting  Mr.  Sankey  led  me  to  Christ,  and  I  am 
happy  in  him  to-day." 

"  Well,  now,  that  is  refreshing,"  commented  Mr. 
Alexander.    "  When  anybody  asks  you  if  revival  con- 


Of  His  Own  Life 


39 


verts  stand,  you  can  speak  of  that  one ;  he  looks  as  if 
he  is  going  to  stay,  too.  As  we  have  gone  around  the 
world  we  have  found  that  the  best  workers,  as  a  gen- 
eral rule,  are  either  workers  or  converts  of  the  Moody 
and  Sankey  meetings.  We  have  found  them  in  India, 
in  Tasmania,  and  everywhere  we  have  gone." 

Lord  Shaftesbury,  speaking  at  a  meeting  in  Exe- 
ter Hall,  London,  in  the  interest  of  evangelical  work  in 
Ireland,  said :  Therefore  go  on  circulating  the  Scrip- 
tures. I  should  have  been  glad  to  have  had  also  the 
circulation  of  some  well-known  hymns,  because  I  have 
seen  the  effect  produced  by  those  of  Moody  and  San- 
key. If  they  would  only  return  to  this  country  they 
would  be  astonished  at  seeing  the  influence  exerted 
by  those  hymns  which  they  sung.  A  week  ago,  when 
in  Paris,  I  went  to  Belleville,  the  very  nest  of  the  com- 
munists, and  even  in  this  quarter  I  heard  their  hymns 
being  sung.  If  wx  could  get  something  like  that  in 
Ireland  a  mighty  influence  would  be  exerted." 

These  American  laymen,"  said  another  promi- 
nent man,  have  wrought  a  work  in  Great  Britain 
which  the  Church  of  England  itself  feels  in  its  inmost 
heart.  They  are  not,  it  is  true,  graduates  of  any  uni- 
versity ;  they  are  men  of  the  people,  speaking  the  lan- 
guage and  using  the  methods  not  of  the  refined,  but  of 
the  generality.  Yet  they  have  probably  left  a  deeper 
impress  of  their  individuality  upon  the  men  and  women 
of  Great  Britain  than  any  other  persons  that  could  be 
named." 

One  of  the  most  delightful  experiences  of  my  life 
was  a  trip  to  the  Holy  Land  in  1898.  I  was  accom- 
panied by  my  wife,  one  of  my  sons,  my  brother,  and 


40  Sa7ikey s  Story 


a  few  friends.  One  of  the  most  genial  members  of  the 
company  was  the  late  Roswell  R  Flower,  with  whom 
we  had  the  pleasure  of  traveling  for  more  than  three 
months.  We  sailed  from  New  York  in  January,  made 
a  short  stop  at  Gibraltar,  and  dropped  anchor  at  Alex- 
andria. Cairo  we  reached  by  rail.  We  saw  the  pyra- 
mids, the  Gizeh  Museum,  and  the  Howling  Dervishes ; 
made  an  excursion  to  Heliopolis,  and  took  the  trip  up 
the  Nile  to  the  First  Cataract,  visiting  the  usual  places, 
such  as  Luxor  and  Karnak.  At  the  latter  place  we 
met  the  old  Arab  who  discovered  the  mummy  of  Rame- 
ses  II.  We  asked  him  if  he  would  allow  us  to  take  a 
snapshot  of  him.  This  he  at  first  refused,  but  the  glint 
of  the  bright  Egyptian  sun  on  the  proffered  piece  of 
silver  at  once  secured  his  consent. 

After  spending  about  forty  days  in  Egypt  we 
started  for  Palestine  in  March — by  a  provokingly  slow 
train  from  Cairo  to  Port  Said,  and  thence  by  one  of 
the  regular  mail  steamers  to  Jaffa.  In  the  Holy  Land 
we  followed  much  the  usual  round — exploring  Jerusa- 
lem, Bethlehem,  Jericho,  Bethany  and  other  historic 
spots,  and  sharing  the  profound  emotions  that  forever 
stir  the  hearts  of  Christian  tourists  in  Palestine.  On 
our  way  home  we  visited  Constantinople,  returning  via 
Athens,  Naples  and  Rome — and,  of  course,  taking  in 
Mt.  Vesuvius. 

All  through  this  trip — here  so  briefly  outlined — I 
had  occasion  to  sing  the  ''Gospel  Hymns"  many  times. 
The  first  evening  in  Cairo  I  visited  the  American  Mis- 
sion. I  found  the  building  well  filled  with  Americans, 
Egyptians  and  English.  A  man  on  the  platform  was 
giving  an  address  on  temperance.    The  room  was  di- 


Of  His  Own  Life 


41 


vided  by  a  partition  about  two  feet  high,  separating 
the  natives  from  the  foreigners.  I  made  my  way  to  a 
seat  among  the  Americans,  and  had  not  been  there 
long  when  a  missionary  beside  me  leaned  over  and 
said :  Are  you  not  Mr.  Sankey  ?  "  When  I  replied 
that  I  was  he  said  he  hoped  that  I  would  sing  for  them. 
I  told  him  that,  although  I  had  come  for  rest,  I  would 
gladly  sing  if  they  had  a  small  organ  or  piano  on  which 
I  might  accompany  myself.  There  being  no  instru- 
ment in  the  church,  the  matter  was  dropped.  A  few 
minutes  later  a  lady  pressed  her  way  into  the  pew 
behind  me  and,  leaning  over  toward  me,  said :  "  I  am 
delighted  to  see  you  here  to-night,  and  I  hope  you  will 
sing  for  us." 

She  proved  to  be  a  woman  from  my  own  county 
in  Pennsylvania.  Being  told  that  there  was  no  instru- 
ment in  the  church,  she  declared  that  she  would  soon 
get  one.  She  beckoned  to  four  Egyptian  soldiers  to 
follow  her.  In  a  few  minutes  they  returned  with  a 
small  cabinet  organ,  which  they  placed  on  the  plat- 
form. At  the  conclusion  of  the  address  I  gave  a  serv- 
ice of  song,  lasting  for  a  half-hour,  after  which  I  said 
good-night.  But  they  refused  to  be  satisfied,  and 
demanded  more  songs.  Again  a  number  of  pieces 
were  rendered,  and  the  service  was  finally  closed. 

While  returning  down  the  Nile  I  was  often  pre- 
vailed upon  by  missionaries  along  the  way  where  the 
steamer  stopped  to  give  services  of  song.  At  several 
of  these  services  I  found  that  the  natives  already  knew 
a  number  of  our  hymns. 

In  Jerusalem  I  started  early  one  morning  to  visit 
the  Tower  of  David,  which  was  located  only  a  few 


42  Sankey's  Story 


rods  from  the  hotel.  I  was  stopped  by  one  of  the  Sul- 
tan's soldiers,  who  informed  me  by  signs  and  gesticu- 
lations that  I  could  not  ascend  the  tower  without  a 
permit  from  the  captain  of  the  guard.  I  secured  the 
desired  permit  by  the  use  of  a  little  bakhsheesh,  and 
was  escorted  up  the  winding  stairway  by  a  savage- 
looking  soldier  carrying  a  gun.  From  the  top  of  the 
tower  may  be  seen  one  of  the  grandest  and  most  inter- 
esting scenes  in  the  world.  I  determined  to  have  at 
least  one  song  in  honor  of  King  David  before  descend- 
ing. Selecting  one  of  the  most  beautiful  psalms,  the 
I2ist,  "I  to  the  hills  will  lift  mine  eyes,"  I  began  to 
sing  at  the  top  of  my  voice,  using  the  grand  old  tune, 
Belmont."  The  soldier,  not  acquainted  with  that 
kind  of  performance,  and  perhaps  never  having  heard 
a  sacred  song  in  his  life,  rushed  up  to  where  I  stood, 
looking  quite  alarmed.  I  knew  that  he  could  not  un- 
derstand a  word  of  what  I  was  singing,  so  I  kept  right 
on  to  the  end  of  the  psalm.  Coming  to  the  conclusion 
by  this  time  that  I  was  not  likely  to  do  any  special  dam- 
age either  to  him  or  to  myself,  the  guard  smiled  and 
tipped  his  cap  as  I  finished.  By  tipping  him  I  returned 
the  salutation,  and  then  we  passed  down  into  the  Street 
of  David. 

A  few  hours  later  our  party  visited  that  portion 
of  the  city  called  Mount  Zion,  where  we  entered  the 
fine  school  erected  by  an  English  bishop  for  the  chil- 
dren of  Jerusalem.  We  were  greeted  by  the  principal, 
who  proved  to  have  been  a  member  of  my  choir  at  the 
meetings  in  London.  I  was  invited  to  sing  for  the 
children,  and  consented  to  do  so  if  they  would  sing 
for  us  first.   I  wa3  much  surprised  to  hear  them  sing 


Of  His  Own  Life 


43 


some  of  my  own  songs,  as  well  as  their  native  songs 
in  Arabic.  I  sang  The  Ninety  and  Nine''  and  other 
songs,  much  to  the  delight  of  the  children. 

Standing  on  the  summit  of  the  green  hill  far  away, 
outside  the  city  wall,  I  sang  the  fine  old  Gospel  hymn : 
On  Calvary's  brow  my  Saviour  died."  While  at 
Constantinople  I  visited  Robert  College,  where  I  sang 
several  hymns  and  gave  an  address  to  the  Turkish  stu- 
dents ;  and  also  at  the  American  and  English  missions 
in  that  city  I  rendered  my  service  of  song.  In  Rome 
I  had  the  same  pleasant  experience,  where  I  held  a 
number  of  services,  both  speaking  and  singing  in  the 
Enghsh,  American  and  Scotch  churches. 

On  returning  to  America  I  visited  the  soldiers  in 
camp  at  Tampa,  Florida,  where  I  held  several  services. 
I  was  here  invited  by  Theodore  Roosevelt,  then  Colonel 
of  the  Rough  Riders,  to  conduct  services  at  his  camp, 
but  a  previous  engagement  prevented  my  accepting. 

The  following  year  I  again  visited  Great  Britain, 
where  I  held  services  of  Sacred  Song  and  Story  "  in 
thirty  cities  and  towns.  The  result  was  that  my  health 
broke  down.    Later  I  lost  my  eyesight. 

My  friend,  Dwight  Lyman  Moody,  was  born  Feb- 
ruary 5,  1837,  Northfield,  Massachusetts.  His 
father,  who  was  a  stone-mason,  died  when  the  lad  was 
about  four  years  old.  Many  years  later  Mr.  Moody 
was  laying  the  corner-stone  of  the  first  building  at 
Northfield.  His  friends  had  secured  a  silver  trowel 
for  him,  but  he  refused  to  use  it.  He  had  been  at 
his  mother's  home,  and  in  the  garret  he  had  found 
one  of  his  father's  old  trowels  with  which  he  had 
earned  bread  for  the  family. 


44  Sankeys  Story 


"  You  may  keep  the  silver  trowel/'  Mr.  Moody 
said ;  "  this  one  is  good  enough  for  me.'' 

Mr.  Moody  used  to  tell  of  how  he  earned  his  first 
money  by  driving  the  neighbors'  cows  to  and  from 
pasture  at  two  cents  a  day.  When  he  was  eight  years 
old  a  man  who  owned  a  mortgage  on  his  mother's  little 
farm  came  to  the  house  one  day  and  told  the  widow 
that  she  must  pay  the  mortgage  or  get  out  of  the 
house.  The  poor  woman  was  sick  at  the  time.  She 
turned  over  in  the  bed  and  prayed  that  God  would 
help  her.  Then  she  wrote  to  her  brother,  and  he 
helped  her  by  paying  the  interest  on  the  mortgage  for 
several  years.  At  last,  by  economy  and  industry,  the 
family  was  able  to  clear  off  the  mortgage  and  retain 
the  home.  Many  years  afterward,  by  God's  blessing, 
young  Dwight  was  able  to  secure  the  farm  belonging 
to  the  man  who  had  once  held  the  mortgage,  and  on 
that  farm  is  now  located  the  school  of  Mount  Hermon, 
established  for  the  education  of  young  men. 

At  the  age  of  nineteen  young  Moody  left  the  farm 
and  went  to  Boston,  where  he  entered  a  shoe  store 
owned  by  his  uncle.  In  Boston  he  was  converted 
through  the  preaching  of  Dr.  Kirk,  at  the  Mount  Ver- 
non Church.  After  remaining  in  Boston  for  some 
time,  Moody  went  to  Chicago,  where  he  found  employ- 
ment in  a  shoe  store  owned  by  a  Mr.  Henderson.  He 
made  a  good  record  in  business,  and  sold  more  shoes 
than  any  other  clerk  in  the  establishment.  And  when- 
ever Mr.  Henderson  heard  of  the  failure  of  any  of  his 
customers  in  the  towns  about  Chicago,  he  would 
always  send  Moody  to  collect  the  debts,  as  he  invar- 
iably arrived  there  ahead  of  all  other  creditors. 


Of  His  Own  Life  45 


While  he  was  thus  engaged  Mr.  Moody  did  not 
lose  zeal  in  religious  matters.  He  was  very  active  in 
the  work  of  the  Young  Men's  Christian  Association, 
and  was  soon  elected  president  of  the  branch  located  at 
Farwell  Hall.  He  also  became  much  interested  in 
Sunday-school  work,  hiring  a  saloon  for  use  on  Sun- 
days. 

In  his  Sunday-school  was  a  wicked  and.  unruly 
young  man,  who  constantly  disturbed  the  exercises. 
Mr.  Moody  remonstrated  with  him  a  number  of  times, 
but  to  no  avail.  Finally,  taking  the  young  man  into 
an  adjoining  room,  he  gave  him  a  severe  chastising. 
When  Moody  returned,  flushed  with  excitement,  he 
said  to  his  assistant  superintendent :  "  I  think  I  have 
saved  that  young  man."  And  truly  he  had,  for  from 
that  time  the  young  disturber  became  an  earnest  Chris- 
tian, and  was  one  of  Moody's  warmest  and  best  sup- 
porters for  many  years.  Mr.  Moody's  Sunday-school 
work  grew  until  he  had  one  of  the  largest  schools  in 
Chicago,  in  what  was  known  as  the  Illinois  Street 
Church.  There  I  joined  him  in  1871,  acting  as  his 
chorister  until  we  went  to  England  in  1873.  after  which 
we  continued  to  work  together  for  about  a  quarter  of 
a  century.  Mr.  Moody  was  not  a  singer,  and  could 
not  have  raised  a  tune  had  his  life  depended  upon  it, 
although  he  was  very  fond  of  singing  and  used  the 
service  of  praise  more  extensively  and  successfully 
than  any  other  man  in  the  nineteenth  century. 

Dwight  L.  Moody  was  the  greatest  and  noblest 
man  I  have  ever  known.  His  strongest  characteristic 
was  common  sense.  The  poor  heard  him  gladly,  as 
they  did  his  Master  of  old ;  the  rich  and  learned  were 


46  Sankeys  Story 


charmed  by  his  simple,  earnest  words.  He  will  not 
only  be  remembered  for  his  extended  evangelistic 
work,  but  also  for  the  two  noble  schools  which  he 
founded. 

Those  schools  at  Northfield  and  Mount  Hermon, 
Massachusetts,  originated  in  this  way :  One  day,  about 
the  year  1880,  Mr.  Moody  drove  up  into  the  mountains 
near  his  mother's  home.  Stopping  at  a  much  dilapi- 
dated farmhouse,  he  hitched  his  horse  to  the  fence 
and  went  in.  The  man  of  the  family  was  sick  in  bed ; 
the  mother  and  two  daughters  w^ere  making  straw  hats, 
by  which  to  support  the  family.  Moody  said  to  them  : 
What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  This  old  farm  is 
worn  out  and  unable  to  maintain  your  family." 

The  girls  answered  that  if  they  could  obtain  an 
education  in  some  way  they  might  be  able  to  earn 
money  for  the  support  of  their  parents. 

Well,  let  us  pray  about  it,''  said  Moody.  After 
the  prayer  he  gave  them  a  little  money,  got  into  his 
carriage,  and  started  back  down  the  mountain  to  the 
village.  I  met  him  on  his  return,  and  he  said  to  me : 
I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  start  a  school  for  poor 
girls  in  New  England.  If  you  are  willing,  we  will  ask 
the  committee  which  has  charge  of  the  royalty  received 
on  our  hymn-books  to  devote  the  income  from  that 
source  to  start  the  erection  of  buildings." 

To  this  I  heartily  agreed,  and  this  was  the  begin- 
ning of  the  now  famous  Northfield  schools.  The  first 
students  in  the  school  were  the  poor  girls  who  were 
making  the  straw  hats.  The  story  of  these  two 
girls,  and  of  Mr.  Moody's  visit  to  them,  I  told  some 
years  afterward  to  a  number  of  summer  guests  at  Lake 


Of  His  Own  Life 


47 


Mohonk.  The  proprietor  of  the  hotel,  Mr.  Smiley, 
being  much  impressed,  took  his  hat  and  collected 
among  the  guests  $1,500  for  the  school.  On  receiv- 
ing the  offering  next  day,  Moody  said  to  me  that  it  was 
the  most  providential  thing,  as  they  were  just  that 
amount  short  in  making  up  the  annual  accounts  of  the 
school. 

Some  time  after  the  estabhshment  of  the  girls' 
school  a  wealthy  gentleman  from  New  Haven  was 
visiting  Northfield.  Seeing  the  good  work  done  there 
for  the  girls,  he  asked  Mr.  Moody  why  he  did  not  do 
the  same  thing  for  the  boys  of  New  England.  Mr. 
Moody  replied  that  he  would  be  very  glad  to  do  so  if 
he  had  the  money. 

I  will  give  $25,000  to  commence  with,''  said  the 
old,  white-haired  man. 

The  offer  was  gladly  accepted.  It  was  this  money 
which  Mr.  Moody  used  for  buying  the  farm  of  the  man 
who  had  ordered  his  widowed  mother  from  her  home. 
On  this  farm,  situated  two  miles  from  the  girls'  school, 
across  the  Connecticut  River,  are  now  located  five  or 
six  large  buildings,  in  which  young  men  from  all  over 
the  world  are  educated.  About  a  thousand  students 
attend  the  schools  every  year.  One  hundred  dollars  a 
year  is  charged  for  each  student,  but  pupils  are  ex- 
pected to  do  whatever  work  they  can  to  help  along. 

After  forty-four  years  of  faithful  and  consecrated 
labor  for  his  Master,  Mr.  Moody  passed  on  to  his  re- 
ward December  22,  1899. 


I.  D.  S. 


♦43^  EFORE  sending:  forth  this  book  on  its 
IF^  mission  I  wish  to  express  my  thank- 
fulness to  Almig-hty  God  for  having; 
permitted  me  to  live^  move  and  have  my 
being-;  for  the  promise  which  he  hath  g:iven 
of  eternal  life  throug-h  his  name ;  and  for  the 
confidence  that  I  shall  be  with  him  by  and  by 
in  the  land  where  there  is  no  more  pain^ 
sorrow  or  deaths  and  where  he  shall  wipe  all 
tears  from  our  eyes* 

My  three  latest  favorite  songfs^  Hidingf 
in  Thee/^  '^There^ll  be  no  Dark  VaUey/^ 
and  Saved  by  Grace/^  besides  the  old  famil- 
iar **  Ninety  and  Nine/^  are  herewith  re- 
produced, as  an  appropriate  closing:  for  this 
autobiog:raphical  sketch* 


Hiding  in  Thee. 

Rev.  William  O.  Gushing. 

Copyright,  1877,  by  Biglow  &  Main. 


Ira  D.  Sankey. 

Used  by  permission 


1.  O  safe      to      the    Rock    that     is       high  -  er    than  I, 

2.  Ill  the   calm      of      the    noon  -  tide,     in       sor  -  row's  lone  hour, 

3.  How       oft       iu      the    con  -  flict,  when  press'd   by     the  foe, 




1  1 

\  ' 

My  soul 
In  times 
I    have  tied 


in      its     con  -  flicts  and     sor  -  rows  would  fly; 
wtien  temp  -  ta   -  tion  casts    o'er      me      its  power; 
to      my    Ref  -  uge    and  breath'd  out     my  woe; 


So  sin  -  ful,  so  wea  -  ry,  Thine,  Thine  would  I  be; 
In  the  tem  -  pests  of  life,  on  its  wide,  heav  -  ing  sea; 
How      oft  -    en,  when   tri    -    als    like     sea  -  bil  -  lows  roll. 


Refrain. 


Thou  blest  ''Rock  of  A  -  ges,"  I'm  hid  -  ing  in  Thee. 
Thou  blest  "Rock  of  A  -ges,"  I'm  hid  -  ing  in  Thee. 
Havel  hid- den    in  Thee,  O  Thou  Rock  of  my  soul 


3.  V  Hid  i: 


ing  in  Thee, 


Hid  -  ing  in  Thee,  Thou  blesfRockof   A  -  ges,"  I'm    hid  -  ing    in  Thee. 


w=i= — 1 — 1?= 


There'll  Be  No  Dark  Valley. 

Rbt.  William  O.  Cushixg.  Ira  D.  SuiKiT. 

Copyright.  1896,  by  The  Biglow  &  Main  Co.      ^sed  by  permission 


1.  There'll  be  no  dark  val  -  ley  when  Je  -  sus  comes,  There'll  be    no  dark 

2.  There'll  be  no  more  sor  -  row  when  Je  -  sus  comes,  There'll  be    no  more 

3.  There'll  be  no  more  weep-ing  when  Je  -  sus  comes,  There'll  be     no  more 

4.  There'll  be  songs  of  greet -ing  when  Je  -  sus  comes,  There'll  be  songs  of 


:S:  ^  ^ 

val  -  ley  when  Je  -  sus  comes;  There'll  be  no  dark  val  -  ley  when  Je  -  sus  comes 
sor  -  row  when  Je  -  sus  comes ;  But  a  glorious  mor  -  row  when  Je  -  bus  comes 
weep-ing  when  Je  -  sus  comes;  But  a  bless-ed  reap  ing  when  Je  -  sus  comes 
greet-ing  when  Je  -  sus  comes;  And   a  joy  -  ful  meet-ing  when  Je  -  eus  comes 


To    gath  -  er     His   loved  ones  home. 


To     gath  •  er     His  loved  ones 


p.1 

m. 

^ — s — ^ 

'  1 

1  1 

1  le!  1 

1     I    I    I  '  i 

home,  To     gath  -  er     His  loved  ones  home;  There'll  be 

safe  home,  safe  home; 


no    dark  val  *  ley  when  Je  -  sus  comes  To    gath-er    His  loved  ones  home. 


Copyright,  1905,  by  Ira  D.  Sankej. 


Saved  by  Grace* 


Famny  J.  Crosby.  Gbo.  C.  Stebbins. 

Copyright,  1894,  by  The  Biglow  A  Main  Co.    Used  by  permission 
4  ^ 


1.  Some  day  the  sil  -  ver  cord  will  break.  And  I     no  more    as  now  shall  sing; 

2.  Some  day  my  earth  -ly  house  will  fall,   I    can  -  not  tell    how  soon  'twill  be, 

3.  Some  day.when  fades  the  gold-en  sun    Be-neath  the  ro*  •  sy-tint-ed  west, 

4.  Some  day;  till  then  I'll  watch  and  wait,  My  lamp  all  trimm'd  and  burning  bright, 


But,  O,  the  joy  when  1  shall  wake  With-in  the  pal  ace  of  the  King! 
But  this  I  know—  my  All  in  All  Has  now  a  place  in  heav'n  for  me. 
My  bless -ed  Lord  shall  say, -Wei I  done!"  And  I  shall  en  -  ler  in  -  to  rest. 
That  when  my  Sav  -  iourope's  the  gate,  My  soul  to  Him  may  take    its  flight. 


-t? — "  " — r 

And    I    shall    see  Him  face  to     face,  And  tell  the 

shall  see    _  _       i     to  face, 

-Iff  


 1  ^ 

8to  -  ry—  Saved   by  grace;    And    I    shall  see 


shall  see 


Him  face  to 


The  Ninety  and  Nine* 


B.  C.  Clepha2*e.  Ira  D.  Sanket. 

Copyright  1874,  by  The  Biglow  &  Main  Co, 


-^-1  ^-^-^  ^.  ^  1 

r     I]  — ^~Tj»  mr^m  '  

i 

1.  There  were 

2.  '"Lord,  Tt 

3.  But  nc 

 ttf  •  1 

niae-ty  ana  nine  that  s 
ou  hast  here  Thy  nine 
)ne  of  the  ran-somed 

g-  ;  -g-  g      g  g 

^^-4.—^  U-[ 

«  m  m  ^  e                        •?  B[z_| 

ife   -    ly    lay  In  the  she!  -  ter      of  the 
-  ty      and  nine;  Are  they  not    e  -  nough  for 
ev    -    er  knew  How    deep  w  ere  the  wa-  ters 

fold,  But  one  was  out  on  the  hills  a  -  way,  Far  off  from  the 
Thee?"  But  the  Shep-herd  made  an  swer: This  of  mine  Has  wan  -  dered 
crossed ;    Nor  how  dark  was  the  night  that  the  Lord  pass'd  thro'  Ere  He  found  His 


 — m-.^rr 

gates      of  gold- 
a    way  from  me, 
sheep  that  was  lost, 


A       way   on   the     moun   tains  wild  and  bare,  A 
And,   al    though  the    road      be  rough  and  steep,  I 
Out   in    the  des  -  ert  He   heard  its  cry— 


w^ay  from  the  tender  Shepherd's  care,  A-way  from  the  ten-der  Shep-herd's  care, 
^o  to  the  desert  to  find  my  sheep,  I  go  to  the  desert  to  find  my  sheep. 
Sick  and  helpless,  and  read  y  to  die,         Sick  and  helpless,  and  ready  to  die. 

esses:  -  '  ' 


Used  by  pc 


4  '*Lord,  whence  are  those  blood-drops  all  the  way 

That  mark  out  the  mountain's  track?" 
"They  were  shed  for  one  who  had  gone  astray 

Ere  the  Shepherd  could  bring  him  back.  " 
"Lord,  whence  are  Thy  hands  so  rent  and  torn?" 
"They  are  pierced  to-night  bv  many  a  thorn." 

5  But  all  thro'  the  mountains,  thunder  riven, 

And  up  from  the  rocky  steep. 
There  arose  a  glad  cry  to  the  gate  of  heaven, 

''Rejoice!  I  have  found  my  sheep!" 
And  the  Angels  echoed  around  the  throne, 
"Kejoicel  for  the  Lord  brings  back  His  ownl  " 


SANKEY'S  STORY  OF 
THE  GOSPEL  HYMNS 


SANKEY'S  STORY  OF  THE 
GOSPEL  HYMNS 


A  Mighty  Fortress 

Words  by  Martin  Luther  Music  by  Martin  Luther 

"A  mighty  fortress  is  our  God, 
A  bulwark  never  failing." 

Martin  Luther,  the  great  leader  of  the  Reforma- 
tion, is  the  author  of  both  the  words  and  music  of  this 
famous  hymn,  probably  written  in  1521.  Two  of  the 
most  popular  English  translations  are  by  the  Rev.  Dr. 
F.  H.  Hedge  and  Thomas  Carlyle. 

While  Luther  was  still  living  his  enemies  in  the 
Roman  Catholic  Church  declared  that  the  whole  Ger- 
man people  were  singing  themselves  into  Luther's 
doctrines,  and  that  his  hymns  "  destroyed  more  souls 
than  all  his  writings  and  sermons." 

During  the  prolonged  contest  of  the  Reformation 
period  ''A  Mighty  Fortress"  was  of  incalculable  benefit 
and  comfort  to  the  Protestant  people,  and  it  became  the 
national  hymn  of  Germany.  Gustavus  Adolphus,  the 
hero  of  the  Thirty  Years'  War,  used  it  as  his  battle- 
hymn,  when  he  led  his  troops  to  meet  Wallenstein. 

The  first  line  of  this  hymn  is  inscribed  on  Luther's 
monument  in  Wittenburg.  Luther  himself  found  great 
comfort  in  his  hymn.  When  dangers  thickened  around 

55 


56  Sankeys  Story 


him  he  would  turn  to  his  companion,  Melanchthon, 
and  say :  *'Come,  PhiHp,  let  us  sing  the  46th  Psalm'' — 
and  they  would  sing  it  in  this  characteristic  version. 

In  1720  a  remarkable  revival  began  in  a  town  in 
Moravia.  Jesuits  opposed  it,  and  the  meetings  were 
prohibited.  Those  who  still  assembled  were  seized  and 
imprisoned  in  stables  and  cellars.  At  David  Nitsch- 
mann's  house,  where  a  hundred  and  fifty  persons  gath- 
ered, the  police  broke  in  and  seized  the  books.  Not 
dismayed,  the  congregation  struck  up  the  stanza  of 
Luther's  hymn, 

"And  though  this  world,  with  devils  filled, 

Should  threaten  to  undo  us; 
We  will  not  fear,  for  God  hath  willed 
His  truth  to  triumph  through  us." 

Twenty  heads  of  families  were  for  this  sent  to  jail,  in- 
cluding Nitschmann,  who  was  treated  with  special 
severity.  He  finally  escaped,  fled  to  the  Moravians  at 
Herrnhut,  became  a  bishop,  and  afterwards  joined  the 
Wesleys  in  1735  in  their  expedition  to  Savannah, 
Georgia. 

A  Shelter  in  the  Time  of  Storm 

Words  by  V.  J.  Charlesworth  Music  by  Ira  D.  Sankey 

"  The  Lord's  our  Rock,  in  Him  we  hide, 
A  shelter  in  the  time  of  storm.'* 

I  found  this  hymn  in  a  small  paper  published  in 
London,  called  "  The  Postman."  It  was  said  to  be  a 
favorite  song  of  the  fishermen  on  the  north  coast  of 
England,  and  they  were  often  heard  singing  it  as  they 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  5  7 


approached  their  harbors  in  the  time  of  storm.  As 
the  hymn  was  set  to  a  weird  minor  tune,  I  decided  to 
compose  one  that  would  be  more  practical,  one  that 
could  be  more  easily  sung  by  the  people. 

A  Sinner  Forgiven 

Words  by  Jeremiah  J.  Callahan  Music  by  I.  B.  Woodbury 

"  To  the  hall  of  the  feast  came  the  sinful  and  fair; 
She  heard  in  the  city  that  Jesus  was  there. 

**Mr.  F.  Markham,  connected  with  a  large  and 
well-known  piano  factory,  was  leading  an  ungodly 
and  heedless  life,''  says  a  London  periodical.  One 
day  he  saw  an  announcement  that  Moody  and  Sankey 
were  to  open  a  mission  at  St.  Pancras  that  evening. 
Instantly  he  resolved  to  go  and  hear  the  singing.  He 
and  a  companion  reached  the  hall  in  good  time,  as 
they  thought,  only  to  find  it  crowded  to  the  doors.  An 
overflow  meeting  was  announced  at  a  neighboring 
church,  and  thither  they  went.  By-and-by  Mr.  Sankey 
sang  'To  the  hall  of  the  feast  came  the  sinful  and  fair.' 
As  Markham  Hstened,  his  past  life  seemed  to  rise  be- 
fore him;  the  tears  rushed  into  his  eyes;  his  heart 
seemed  broken.  Coming  out,  he  asked  his  companion 
what  he  thought  of  it.  '  Oh,'  was  the  careless  reply, 
'  he  is  a  nice  singer.'  '  Is  that  all  ?  It  has  broken  my 
heart.'  Ere  long  he  could  say,  in  the  words  of  the 
song,  *He  looked  on  his  lost  one;  my  sins  are  for- 
given.' When  he  got  home  his  wife  was  amazed  at 
what  had  come  over  him,  and  could  not  make  out 
where  he  had  been.    She  had  been  converted  years 


58  Sankey's  Story 


before,  but  had  backslidden.  She  accompanied  him  to 
the  mission  on  the  following  evening,  and  was  happily 
received.  The  man  became  a  Christian  worker,  and  is 
the  founder  and  superintendent  of  the  Tahhall  Road 
Factory  Lads'  Home  and  Institution. 

Abide  With  Me 

Words  by  H.  F.  Lyte  Music  by  William  H.  Monk 

"Abide  with  me!  Fast  falls  the  eventide, 
The  darkness  deepens — Lord,  with  me  abide." 

One  of  the  many  instances  of  the  power  of  this  hymn 
has  been  recorded  by  Dr.  Theodore  L.  Cuyler :  "  Dur- 
ing my  active  pastorate  I  often  got  better  sermons  from 
my  people  than  I  ever  gave  them.  I  recall  now  a  most 
touching  and  sublime  scene  that  I  once  witnessed  in 
the  death-chamber  of  a  noble  woman  who  had  suffered 
for  many  months  from  an  excruciating  malady.  The 
end  was  drawing  near.  She  seemed  to  be  catching  a 
foregleam  of  the  glory  that  awaited  her.  With  trem- 
ulous tones  she  began  to  recite  Henry  Lyte's  matchless 
hymn, '  Abide  with  me !  Fast  falls  the  eventide.*  One 
line  after  another  was  feebly  repeated,  until,  with  a 
rapturous  sweetness,  she  exclaimed: 

'Hold  Thou  Thy  cross  before  my  closing  eyes. 
Shine  through  the  gloom,  and  point  me  to  the  skies; 
Heaven's  morning  breaks,  and  earth's  vain  shadows  flee! 
In  life,  in  death,  O  Lord,  abide  with  me.' 

"  As  I  came  away  from  that  room,  which  had  been 
as  the  vestibule  of  heaven,  I  understood  how  the  '  light 
of  eventide  '  could  be  only  a  flashing  forth  of  the  over- 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  59 


whelming  glory  that  plays  forever  around  the  throne 
of  God/' 

Henry  Francis  Lyte  wrote  this  hymn  in  1847, 
his  fifty-fourth  year,  when  he  felt  the  eventide  of  life 
approaching.  For  twenty  years  he  had  ministered  to 
a  lowly  congregation  in  Devonshire.  He  decided  to 
spend  the  next  winter  in  Italy,  on  account  of  rapidly 
declining  health.  On  a  Sunday  in  September — in 
weakness,  and  against  the  advice  of  his  friends — he 
preached  a  farewell  sermon  to  his  much-loved  people, 
and  in  the  evening  of  the  same  day  he  wrote  this  im- 
mortal hymn.  He  died  a  few  weeks  later,  his  last 
words  being  'Teace,  joy !" 

All  to  Christ  I  Owe 

Words  by  Mrs.  Elvina  M.  Hall  Music  by  John  T.  Grape 

"  I  hear  the  Saviour  say, 
Thy  strength  indeed  is  small." 

"  Our  church  was  undergoing  some  alterations," 
writes  Mr.  Grape,  "  and  the  cabinet  organ  was  placed 
in  my  care.  Thus  afforded  a  pleasure  not  before  en- 
joyed, I  delighted  myself  in  playing  over  our  Sunday- 
school  hymns.  I  determined  to  give  tangible  shape  to 
a  theme  that  had  been  running  in  my  mind  for  some 
time — -to  write,  if  possible,  an  answer  to  Mr.  Brad- 
bury's beautiful  piece,  *Jesus  paid  it  all.'  I  made  it  a 
matter  of  prayer  and  study,  and  gave  to  the  public  the 
music,  now  known  as  the  tune  to  'All  to  Christ  I  owe.' 
It  was  pronounced  very  poor  by  my  choir  and  my 
friends,  but  my  dear  wife  persistently  declared  that  it 


6o  Sankeys  Story 


was  a  good  piece  of  music  and  would  live.  Time  has 
proved  the  correctness  of  her  judgment.  Soon  after 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Schrick  called  on  me  to  select  anything 
new  in  music  that  I  had  to  offer.  On  hearing  this 
piece  he  expressed  his  pleasure  with  it,  and  stated 
that  Mrs.  Elvina  M.  Hall  had  written  some  words 
which  he  thought  would  just  suit  the  music.  I  gave 
him  a  copy  of  it,  and  it  was  soon  sung  in  several 
churches  and  well  received.  At  the  suggestion  of 
friends,  I  sent  a  copy  to  Professor  Theodore  Perkins, 
and  it  was  published  in  'Sabbath  Chords.'  Under  the 
providence  of  God,  it  has  been  going  ever  since.  I 
trust  that  it  has  not  failed  in  the  accomplishment  of 
some  good  to  my  fellow-men,  for  the  glory  of  God." 

On  New  Year's  night,  1886,  some  missionaries 
were  holding  open-air  services  in  order  to  attract 
passers-by  to  a  near-by  mission,  where  meetings  were 
to  be  held  later.  ''All  to  Christ  I  owe"  was  sung,  and 
after  a  gentleman  had  given  a  short  address  he 
hastened  away  to  the  mission.  He  soon  heard  foot- 
steps close  behind  him  and  a  young  woman  caught  up 
with  him  and  said : 

"  I  heard  you  addressing  the  open-air  meeting 
just  now;  do  you  think,  sir,  that  Jesus  could  save  a 
sinner  like  me?  " 

The  gentleman  replied  that  there  was  no  doubt 
about  that,  if  she  was  anxious  to  be  saved.  She  told 
him  that  she  was  a  servant  girl,  and  had  left  her  place 
that  morning  after  a  disagreement  with  her  mistress. 
As  she  had  been  wandering  about  the  streets  in  the 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  6 1 


dark,  wondering  where  she  was  to  spend  the  night,  the 
sweet  melodies  of  this  hymn  had  attracted  her,  and 
she  drew  near  and  listened  attentively.  As  the  differ- 
ent verses  were  being  sung,  she  felt  that  the  words 
surely  had  something  to  do  with  her.  Through  the 
whole  service  she  seemed  to  hear  what  met  her  op- 
pressed souFs  need  at  that  moment.  God's  Spirit  had 
showed  her  what  a  poor,  sinful  and  wretched  creature 
she  was,  and  had  led  her  to  ask  what  she  must  do. 
On  hearing  her  experience,  the  gentleman  took  her 
back  to  the  mission  and  left  her  with  the  ladies  in 
charge.  The  young,  wayward  woman  was  brought  to 
Christ  that  night.  A  situation  was  secured  for  her 
in  a  minister's  family.  There  she  became  ill  and  had 
to  be  taken  to  a  hospital.  She  rapidly  failed  and  it 
became  evident  that  she  would  not  be  long  on  earth. 
One  day  the  gentleman  whom  she  met  on  New  Year's 
night  was  visiting  her  in  the  ward.  After  quoting  a 
few  suitable  verses  of  Scripture,  he  repeated  her 
favorite  hymn,  "All  to  Christ  I  owe."  On  coming  to 
the  fourth  verse — 

"  When  from  my  dying  bed 

My  ransomed  soul  shall  rise, 
Then  'Jesus  paid  it  all,' 

Shall  rend  the  vaulted  skies,*' 

she  seemed  overwhelmed  with  the  thought  of  coming 
glory,  and  repeated  the  chorus  so  precious  to  her, 

"Jesus  paid  it  all. 
All  to  Him  I  owe." 

Two  hours  afterward  she  passed  away. 


62  Sankeys  Story 


Almost  Persuaded 

Words  by  P.  P.  Bliss  Music  by  P.  P.  Bliss 

"'Almost  persuaded/  now  to  believe; 
*  Almost  persuaded/  Christ  to  receive/' 

"  He  who  is  almost  persuaded  is  almost  saved, 
and  to  be  almost  saved  is  to  be  entirely  lost/'  were  the 
words  with  which  the  Rev.  Mr.  Brundage  ended  one 
of  his  sermons.  P.  P.  Bliss,  who  was  in  the  audience, 
was  much  impressed  with  the  thought,  and  immedi- 
ately set  about  the  composition  of  what  proved  to  be 
one  of  his  most  popular  songs. 

One  of  the  most  impressive  occasions  on  which 
this  hymn  was  sung  was  in  the  Agricultural  Hall  in 
London,  in  1874,  when  Mr.  Gladstone  was  present. 
At  the  close  of  his  sermon  Mr.  Moody  asked  the  con- 
gregation to  bow  their  heads,  while  I  sang  ''Almost 
Persuaded.''  The  stillness  of  death  prevailed  through- 
out the  audience  of  over  fifteen  thousand,  as  souls 
were  making  their  decisions  for  Christ. 

''While  engaged  in  evangelistic  work  in  western 
Pennsylvania,"  writes  the  Rev.  A.  J.  Furman,  "  I 
saw  the  people  deeply  moved  by  singing.  I  had  begun 
my  preparation  to  preach  in  the*  evening,  from  the 
text,  'Almost  thou  persuadest  me  to  be  a  Christian,' 

when  it  occurred  to  me  that  if  Mrs.  B  ,  an  estimable 

Christian  and  a  most  excellent  singer,  would  sing, 
'Almost  Persuaded'  as  a  solo,  great  good  might  be 
done.  At  once  I  left  the  room  and  called  on  the 
lady,  who  consented  to  sing  as  requested.    When  I 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  63 


had  finished  my  sermon,  she  sang  the  song  with  won- 
derful pathos  and  power.  It  moved  many  to  tears. 
Among  them  was  the  principal  of  the  high  school, 
who  could  not  resist  the  appeal  through  that  song. 
He  and  several  others  found  the  Pearl  of  Great  Price 
before  the  next  day.   After  the  close  of  the  sermon,  I 

spoke  to  Mrs.  B  about  the  effect  of  her  singing, 

and  she  told  me  that  she  had  been  praying  earnestly 
all  that  afternoon,  that  she  might  so  sing  as  to  win 
sinners  for  her  Saviour  that  night,  and  her  prayers 
were  surely  answered." 

"  It  was  Sunday  night,  November  18,  1883,'' 
writes  Mr.  S.  W.  Tucker,  of  Clapton,  London,  "when 
I  heard  you  sing  'Almost  Persuaded'  in  the  Priory 
Hall,  Islington,  London,  and  God  used  that  song  in 
drawing  me  to  the  feet  of  Jesus.  I  was  afraid  to  trust 
myself  in  His  hands  for  fear  of  man.  For  six  weeks 
that  hymn  was  ringing  in  my  ears,  till  I  accepted  the 
invitation.  I  came,  and  am  now  rejoicing  in  the  Lord, 
my  Saviour.  How  often,  with  tears  of  joy  and  love, 
have  I  thought  of  those  meetings  and  of  you  and  dear 
Mr.  Moody,  who  showed  me  and  other  sinners  where 
there  was  love,  happiness  and  joy." 

Said  a  young  man  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Young :  "I  in- 
tend to  become  a  Christian  some  time,  but  not  now. 
Don't  trouble  yourself  about  me.  Til  tend  to  it  in  good 
time."  A  few  weeks  after,  the  man  was  injured  in  a 
saw-mill,  and,  as  he  lay  dying,  Mr.  Young  was  called 
to  him.    He  found  him  in  despair,  saying:  'Xeave 


64  Sankey  s  Story 


me  alone.  At  your  meeting  I  was  almost  persuaded, 
but  I  would  not  yield,  and  now  it  is  too  late.  Oh, 
get  my  wife,  my  sisters  and  my  brothers  to  seek  God, 
and  do  it  now,  but  leave  me  alone,  for  I  am  lost.'' 
Within  an  hour  he  passed  away,  with  these  words  on 
his  lips,  ''I  am  lost,  I  am  lost,  just  because  I  would 
not  yield  when  I  was  almost  persuaded." 


Are  You  Coming  Home  To-night  ? 

Words  by  C.  C.  Music  by  James  McGranahau 

"  Are  you  coming  Home,  ye  wanderers 
Whom  Jesus  died  to  win?" 

A  wild  young  soldier  was  induced  to  attend  a  Gos- 
pel meeting  in  London.  As  he  entered,  the  congrega- 
tion was  singing  Are  you  coming  Home  to-night  ?  " 
The  song  made  a  deep  impression  upon  him.  He 
came  back  the  next  night,  and  he  continued  to  attend 
until  he  was  saved.  "  I  had  to  come,"  he  said ;  "  that 
hymn  would  not  let  me  stay  away.  I  could  not  sleep 
at  night.  All  night  long  that  question  of  the  song, 
both  in  the  words  and  music,  kept  returning  to  me, 
demanding  an  answer:  'Are  you  coming  Home  to- 
night?"' 

The  original  of  this  hymn  was  written  by  a  young 
lady  in  Scotland,  who  signed  herself  C.  Falling 
into  Mr.  McGranahan's  hands,  he  arranged  the  poem 
somewhat  differently,  and  set  the  words  to  music 
The  song  has  brought  blessing  to  many. 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  65 


Arise,  My  Soul,  Arise 

Words  by  Charles  Wesley  Music  by  Lewis  Edson 

"Arise,  my  soul,  arise, 
Shake  off  thy  guilty  fears." 

First  published  in  1742  under  the  title,  "Behold 
the  Man,''  this  became  one  of  the  most  useful  of 
Charles  Wesley's  numerous  hymns.  In  universal  use 
in  English  countries,  and  translated  into  many  lan- 
guages, it  has  been  the  direct  instrumentality  in  the 
conversion  of  thousands  of  souls.  It  has  found  ex- 
pression in  the  exultant  cry  on  the  lips  of  many  a 
dying  saint. 

"I  have  a  record,"  said  a  Wesleyan  missionary 
laboring  in  the  West  Indies,  ''of  two  hundred  persons, 
young  and  old,  who  received  the  most  direct  evidence 
of  the  forgiveness  of  their  sins  while  singing  'Arise, 
my  soul.'  The  conversion  of  the  greater  number  of 
these  persons  took  place  while  I  was  a  missionary 
abroad." 

Art  Thou  Weary  ? 

Words  by  the  Rev.  J.  M.  Neale,  trans.  Music  by  the  Rev.  Henry  W.  Baker 

"  Art  thou  weary,  art  thou  languid. 
Art  thou  sore  distressed?" 

"Some  years  ago/'  writes  Mr.  James  A.  Watson, 
of  Blackburn,  England,  "I  often  visited  one  of  our 
adult  Sunday-school  scholars  who  had  just  been 
brought  to  the  knowledge  of  the  Saviour.  She  was 
formerly  a  Roman  Catholic,  but  was  brought  to  our 
church  one  Sunday  evening  by  a  fellow-worker  in  a 
cotton  mill.  She  heard  a  gospel  of  full  and  free  sal- 
vation, embraced  it,  and  gradually  became  a  faith-filled, 
consistent  Christian.   She  was  laid  low  with  a  serious 


66 


Sa7ikey  s  Story 


illness,  but  it  was  always  a  pleasure  to  visit  her.  On 
one  occasion  she  told  me  that  the  evening  before,  when 
she  had  been  left  alone  for  the  night,  a  cloud  came 
over  her  spirit,  the  sense  of  loneliness  grew  upon  her, 
and  she  seemed  forsaken  of  God.  All  looked  blacky 
and  she  dreaded  the  long,  lone  night.  This  was  a 
most  unusual  thing  and  she  wondered  why  it  should 
be  so.  Just  then,  in  the  quiet  night,  she  heard  steps 
on  the  flags  of  the  foot-way.  A  man  wearing  the  clogs 
of  the  factory  operator  was  coming  along,  evidently 
returning  late  from  some  religious  meeting.  He  was 
full  of  joy,  for  before  he  reached  the  house  where  my 
scholar  was  lying  awake,  he  struck  up  in  a  joyful  and 
loud  song, 

"Art  thou  weary,  art  thou  languid? 
Art  thou  sore  distressed? 
'Come  to  Me/  saith  One; 
And  coming,  be  at  rest!" 

The  singer,  'an  angel  in  clogs,'  went  on  his  way,  sing- 
ing aloud  out  of  a  full  heart ;  but  deep  down  into  the 
heart  of  the  lonely  woman  went  the  words,  *Be  at  rest !' 
Again  she  cast  herself  upon  the  Lord;  the  cloud 
parted,  peace  and  rest  filled  her  heart,  and  she  doubted 
no  more." 

Asleep  in  Jesus 

Words  by  Mrs.  Margaret  Mackay  Music  by  W.  B.  Bradbury 

"Asleep  in  Jesus!  blessed  sleep! 
From  which  none  ever  wake  to  weep." 

"  I  had  been  driven  in  a  friend's  pony-carriage 
through  some  of  the  exquisite  green  lanes  in  Devon- 
shire," wrote  the  author  of  this  hymn  the  year  before 
her  death.    "  We  paused  at  Pennycross,  attracted  by 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  67 


a  rural  burial-ground,  and  went  in  to  look  at  the 
graves.  It  was  a  place  of  such  sweet,  entire  repose 
as  to  leave  a  lasting  impression  on  the  memory.  There 
were  no  artificial  walks  or  decorations,  but  the  grass 
was  very  green,  and  there  were  no  unsightly  signs  of 
neglect.  On  one  of  the  stones  were  the  words, 
'  Sleeping  in  Jesus.'  It  was  in  such  entire  keeping  with 
the  lovely  and  peaceful  surroundings  that  it  clung  to 
my  thoughts.  On  arriving  at  home  I  took  a  pencil 
and  commenced  writing  the  hymn,  little  thinking  that 
i1  was  destined  to  find  so  much  favor,  and  that  part  of 
it  would  be  inscribed  on  many  tombstones. 

Mrs.  Mackay  was  born  in  Scotland,  and  died  at 
Cheltenham,  England,  in  1887,  at  the  age  of  eighty- 
five.  Her  husband  was  a  distinguished  lieutenant- 
colonel  in  the  British  army. 

At  the  Cross 

Words  by  Isaac  Watts  Music  by  R.  E.  Hudson 

"Alas!  and  did  my  Saviour  bleed? 
And  did  my  Sovereign  die?" 

At  the  Cross  is  the  name  of  the  new  tune  by 
R.  E.  Hudson  for  the  old  hymn  by  Watts,  Alas,  and 
did  my  Saviour  bleed."  The  words  were  first  pub- 
lished in  Watts'  Hymns  and  Spiritual  Songs,''  in 
1707,  under  the  title,  "  Godly  Sorrow  Arising  from  the 
Sufferings  of  Christ.''  In  Sacred  Songs  and  Solos  *' 
the  new  tune  is  used  to  the  hymn  "  Fm  not  ashamed 
to  own  my  Lord.'' 

The  children's  evangehst,  E.  P.  Hammond, 
credits  this  hymn  with  his  conversion,  when  he  was 
only  seventeen  years  old. 


68 


Sankey's  Story 


Beautiful  River 


Words  by  Robert  Lowry 


Music  by  Robert  Lowry 


'Shall  we  gather  at  the  river 
Where  bright  angel  feet  have  trod?' 


On  a  sultry  afternoon  in  July,  1864,  Dr.  Lowry 
was  sitting  at  his  study  table  in  Elliott  Place,  Brooklyn, 
when  the  words  of  the  hymn,  Shall  we  gather  at  the 
river  came  to  him.  He  recorded  them  hastily,  and 
then  sat  down  before  his  parlor  organ  and  composed 
the  tune  which  is  now  sung  in  all  the  Sunday-schools 
of  the  world.  In  speaking  of  the  song.  Dr.  Lowry 
said : 

It  is  brass-band  music,  has  a  march  movement, 
and  for  that  reason  has  become  popular,  though,  for 
myself,  I  do  not  think  much  of  it.  Yet  on  several 
occasions  I  have  been  deeply  moved  by  the  singing  of 
this  very  hymn.  Going  from  Harrisburg  to  Lewisburg 
once  I  got  into  a  car  filled  with  half-drunken  lumber- 
men. Suddenly  one  of  them  struck  up,  '  Shall  we 
gather  at  the  river?'  and  they  sarfg  it  over  and  over 
again,  repeating  the  chorus  in  a  wild,  boisterous  way. 
I  did  not  think  so  much  of  the  music  then,  as  I  listened 
to  those  singers ;  but  I  did  think  that  perhaps  the  spirit 
of  the  hymn,  the  words  so  flippantly  uttered,  might 
somehow  survive  and  be  carried  forward  into  the  lives 
of  those  careless  men,  and  ultimately  lift  them  upward 
to  the  realization  of  the  hope  expressed  in  the  hymn. 
A  different  appreciation  of  it  was  evinced  during  the 
Robert  Raikes  centennial.  I  was  in  London,  and  had 
gone  to  a  meeting  in  the  Old  Bailey  to  see  some  of  the 
most  famous  Sunday-school  workers  of  the  world. 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  69 


They  were  present  from  Europe,  Asia  and  America. 
I  sat  in  a  rear  seat  alone.  After  there  had  been  a  num- 
ber of  addresses  delivered  in  various  languages  I  was 
preparing  to  leave,  when  the  chairman  of  the  meeting 
announced  that  the  author  of  *  Shall  we  gather  at  the 
river  ? '  was  present,  and  I  was  requested  by  name  to 
come  forward.  Men  applauded  and  women  waved 
their  handkerchiefs  as  I  went  to  the  platform.  It  was 
a  tribute  to  the  hymn ;  but  I  felt,  after  it  was  over,  that 
I  had  perhaps  done  some  little  good  in  the  world.'* 

The  year  after  it  was  written,  on  Children's  Day, 
in  Brooklyn,  when  the  assembled  Sunday-schools  of 
the  city  met  in  bewildering  array,  this  song  was  sung 
by  more  than  forty  thousand  voices.  There  was  not 
a  child  from  the  gutter  or  a  mission  waif  who  did  not 
know  it. 

An  American  lady  writing  from  Cairo,  who  was 
allowed  to  visit  the  military  hospital  soon  after  some 
wounded  men  had  been  brought  in  from  a  skirmish, 
says :  "  The  three  hours  we  could  stay  were  full  of 
work  for  heart  and  hand.  One  young  soldier  from  a 
Highland  regiment  especially  excited  my  interest.  He 
had  lost  a  limb,  and  the  doctor  said  he  could  not  live 
through  the  night.  I  stopped  at  his  side  to  see  whether 
there  was  anything  that  I  could  do  for  him.  He  lay 
with  closed  eyes ;  and  as  his  lips  moved  I  caught  the 
words,  '  Mother,  mother.'  I  dipped  my  handkerchief 
in  a  basin  of  iced  water,  and  bathed  his  forehead  where 
the  fever  flushes  burned. 


70  Sankeys  Story 


'Oh,  that  is  good !'  he  said,  opening  his  eyes. 
Seeing  me  bending  over  him,  he  caught  my  hand  and 
kissed  it.  '  Thank  you,  lady,'  he  said ;  '  it  'minds  me  o' 
mother.' 

I  asked  him  if  I  could  write  to  his  mother.  No, 
he  said ;  the  surgeon  had  promised  to  write ;  but  could 
I;  would  I,  sing  to  him?  I  hesitated  a  moment,  and 
looked  around.  The  gleam  on  the  yellow  water  of  the 
Nile,  as  the  western  rays  slanted  down,  caught  my  eye 
and  suggested  the  river  the  streams  of  which  shall 
make  glad  the  city  of  God.  I  began  to  sing  in  a  low 
A'oice  the  gospel  hymn,  '  Shall  we  gather  at  the  river?  ' 
Eager  heads  were  raised  around  us  to  listen  more  in- 
tently, while  bass  and  tenor  voices,  weak  and  tremu- 
lous, came  in  on  the  chorus, — 

*Yes,  we'll  gather  at  the  river, 
The  beautiful,  the  beautiful  river; 
Gather  with  the  saints  at  the  river 
That  flows  by  the  throne  of  God.* 

"  When  the  song  was  ended,  I  looked  into  the  face 
of  the  boy — for  he  was  not  over  twenty — and  asked, 
'  Shall  you  be  there  ?  ' 

"  '  Yes,  I'll  be  there,  through  what  the  Lord  Jesus 
has  done  for  me  ? '  he  answered,  with  his  blue  eyes 
shining,  while  a  'light  that  never  was  on  sea  or  land ' 
irradiated  his  face.  The  tears  gathered  in  my  eyes  as 
I  thought  of  the  mother,  in  her  far-off  Scottish  home, 
watching  and  waiting  for  tidings  of  her  soldier  boy, 
who  was  breathing  away  his  life  in  an  Eg}^ptian  hos- 
pital. 

"  '  Come  again,  lady,  come  again,'  I  heard  on  all 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  71 


sides  as  we  left  the  barracks.  I  shall  go ;  but  I  shall 
not  find  my  Scottish  laddie,  for  by  to-morrow's  reveille 
he  will  have  crossed  the  river." 

Beautiful  Valley  of  Eden 

Words  by  the  Rev.  W.  O.  Gushing  Music  by  William  F.  Sherwin 

''Beautiful  valley  of  Eden! 
Sweet  is  thy  noon-tide  calm.'* 

One  day  in  1875  I  reaching  up  for  a  bless- 
ing/' says  the  author  of  these  words,  '*when  suddenly 
there  came  down  upon  my  heart  a  vision  of  the  heav- 
enly country.  I  seemed  to  look  down  upon  a  river 
that  like  a  mighty  tide  rolled  beneath  me.  Across,  on 
the  other  side  of  this  river,  I  saw  an  enchanted  land  ;  its 
hills  and  valleys  were  sleeping  in  a  heavenly  calm.  It 
was  more  beautiful  than  words  can  tell,  and  my  heart 
seemed  to  be  there.  As  I  gazed  on  the  scene,  there 
came  to  my  lips  the  words,  '  Beautiful  valley  of  Eden.' 
The  vision  remained  until  I  had  written  down  the 
hymn ;  then  it  gradually  faded  from  my  sight.  But  I 
want  to  say  that  the  beauty  of  the  hymn  is  largely  due 
to  Mr.  Sherwin,  who,  by  his  rich  melody,  has  reached 
a  deeper  chord  than  any  mere  words  could  ever  have 
reached." 

Beulah  Land 

Words  by  E.  P.  Stites  Music  by  John  R.  Sweney 

"Fve  reached  the  land  of  corn  and  wine, 
And  all  its  riches  freely  mine." 

First  sung  at  Ocean  Grove,  New  Jersey,  at  a  great 
gathering  of  Methodists,  this  hymn  at  once  became 
very  popular.    It  has  been  sung  in  every  land  where 


72  Sankeys  Story 


the  name  of  Christ  is  known.  The  secretary  of  the 
Young  Men's  Christian  Association  at  Plymouth,  Eng- 
land, wrote  me  a  beautiful  story  of  a  young  lady,  who 
sang  it  on  her  dying  bed  as  she  passed  into  the  land 
that  is  fairer  than  day. 

I  sang  this  favorite  song  over  the  dead  body  of  my 
friend,  Mr.  Sweney,  at  the  church  of  which  he  was  a 
leading  member,  in  West  Chester,  Pennsylvania,  on 
the  day  of  his  burial. 


Blessed  Assurance 

Words  by  Fanny  J.  Crosby  Music  by  Mrs.  Joseph  F.  Knapp 

"Blessed  assurance,  Jesus  is  mine! 
O,  what  a  foretaste  of  glory  divine!" 

"  During  the  recent  war  in  the  Transvaal,"  said  a 
gentleman  at  my  meeting  in  Exeter  Hall,  London,  in 
1900, when  the  soldiers  going  to  the  front  were  pass- 
ing another  body  of  soldiers  whom  they  recognized, 
their  greetings  used  to  be, '  Four-nine-four,  boys ;  four- 
nine-four;'  and  the  salute  would  invariably  be  an- 
swered with  '  Six  further  on,  boys ;  six  further  on.' 
The  significance  of  this  was  that,  in  '  Sacred  Songs 
and  Solos,'  a  number  of  copies  of  the  small  edition  of 
which  had  been  sent  to  the  front,  number  494  was, 
*  God  be  with  you  till  we  meet  again ;'  and  six  further 
on  than  494,  or  number  500,  was  '  Blessed  Assurance, 
Jesus  is  mine.' "  - 

One  of  the  most  popular  and  useful  of  the  "  Gos- 
pel Hymns,"  this  was  sung  by  a  large  delegation  of 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  73 


Christian  Endeavorers  on  the  train  to  Minneapolis^ 
some  years  ago.  And  it  was  often  sung  at  night  as 
the  street-cars  were  crowded  with  passengers  on  their 
way  to  the  Convention  Hall,  greatly  to  the  deHght 
of  the  people  of  that  city. 


Blest  be  the  Tie  that  Binds 

Words  by  the  Rev.  John  Fawcett  Music  by  H.  G.  Nageli 

L/  2  ^       "Blest  be  the  tie  that  binds 

Our  hearts  in  Christian  love." 

.  Dr.  John  Fawcett  was  the  pastor  of  a  small  church 
at  Wainsgate,  and  was  called  from  there  to  a  larger 
church  in  London  in  1772.  He  accepted  the  call  and 
preached  his  farewell  sermon.  The  wagons  were 
loaded  with  his  books  and  furniture,  and  all  was  ready 
for  the  departure,  when  his  parishioners  gathered 
around  him,  and  with  tears  m  their  eyes  begged  of  him 
to  stay.  His  wife  said,  Oh,  John,  John,  I  cannot 
bear  this/'  Neither  can  I,"  exclaimed  the  good  par- 
son, and  we  will  not  go.  Unload  the  wagons  and  put 
everything  as  it  was  before."  His  decision  was  hailed 
with  great  joy  by  his  people,  and  he  wrote  the  words 
of  this  hymn  in  commemoration  of  the  event.  This 
song,  and  God  be  with  you  till  we  meet  again,"  are 
the  most  useful  farewell  hymns  in  the  world. 

Mr.  Moody  used  to  tell  of  a  Sunday-school 
teacher,  to  whom  he  had  given  a  class  of  girls,  who 
one  day  came  to  Mr.  Moody's  store  much  disheartened. 


74 


Sankey  s  Story 


He  had  siifiFered  from  hemorrhage  of  the  lungs,  and 
his  doctor  had  ordered  him  to  leave  Chicago.  He  was 
sad  because  he  felt  that  he  had  not  made  a  true  effort 
to  save  his  class.  At  Mr.  Moody's  proposal  that  they 
go  to  visit  each  of  the  class  members,  they  took  a 
carriage  and  at  once  began  the  work,  the  young  man 
in  his  feebleness  saying  what  he  could  to  each.  At  a 
farewell  meeting  where  they  were  all  gathered,  they 
endeavored  to  sing  Blest  be  the  tie  that  binds,''  but 
their  hearts  were  full  and  their  voices  failed.  Every 
member  of  the  class  yielded  her  heart  to  God. 


Calling  Now 

Words  by  P.  P.  Bliss  Music  by  P.  P.  Bliss 

"This  loving  Saviour  stands  patiently; 
Tho'  oft  rejected,  calls  again  for  thee/' 

A  song  somewhat  similar  to  this  I  remember  sing- 
ing as  a  solo  in  Mr.  ]\Ioody's  Tabernacle  in  Chicago 
at  the  close  of  an  evangelistic  meeting  in  1872.  Mr. 
Bliss  came  in  late  and  stood  just  inside  the  door,  listen- 
ing. At  the  close  of  the  meeting  he  came  up  to  the 
platform  and  spoke  enthusiastically  about  the  piece, 
and  remarked  that  he  also  would  try  to  write  a  hymn 
on  ''The  Prodigal."  Not  long  afterward  I  heard  him 
sing  this  beautiful  hymn,  which  he  himself  entitled 
*'  Calling  Now."  It  has  been  especially  useful  in 
inquiry-meetings  and  at  the  close  of  evangelistic  ad- 
dresses. I  have  often  heard  it  sung  with  great  effect — 
very  softly  by  a  choir,  while  the  workers  were  speaking 
to  the  anxious  ones — and  its  soft,  sweet,  pleading  tones 
were  always  blessed  to  the  hearers. 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  75 


Come  " 

Words  by  Mrs.  James  G.  Johnson  Music  by  James  McGranahan 

"  O  word  of  words  the  sweetest, 
O  word,  in  which  there  lie — " 

As  these  words  were  sung  at  one  of  our  meetings 
in  Baltimore,  a  man  arose  and  left  the  building,  declar- 
ing that  he  had  never  heard  such  twaddle  in  all  his  life. 
When  he  reached  home  he  tore  the  hymn  out  of  his 
hymn-book  and  threw  it  into  the  fire  ;  but  he  said  after- 
ward that  the  words  still  rang  in  his  heart  and  that  he 
could  not  get  rid  of  them.  At  last  he  came  to  Mr. 
Moody  and  said :  "  I  am  a  vile  sinner,  and  I  want  you 
to  tell  me  how  I  can  come  to  Jesus  and  be  saved." 
Moody  was  enabled  to  lead  him  into  the  light,  and  the 
man  afterward  declared  that  this  was  the  sweetest 
hymn  in  all  the  book. 

Come  Believing 

Words  by  D,  W.  Whittle     El.  Nathan  ")  Music  by  James  McGranahan 

"  Once  again  the  Gospel  message 
From  the  Saviour  you  have  heard." 

A  lawyer  from  the  West  sank  so  low  as  to  become 
a  tramp  in  the  streets  of  New  York.  He  was  fifty- 
four  years  old  and  a  homeless,  penniless  wretch.  As 
he  stumbled  by  the  Florence  Mission  one  night  the 
windows  were  open  and  he  stopped  a  moment  to  listen 
to  the  singing.    They  sang : 

"Once  again  the  Gospel  message 
From  the  Saviour  you  have  heard; 
Will  you  heed  the  invitation? 
Will  you  turn  and  seek  the  Lord?" 


76  Sankey  s  Story 


It  came  like  the  voice  of  God  to  him.  His  early 
training  had  been  Christian,  and  he  thought  he  would 
go  in.  He  did  so,  and  as  he  took  his  seat  they  were 
singing  the  second  verse  : 

*'Many  summers  you  have  wasted, 

Ripened  harvests  you  have  seen; 
Winter  snows  by  spring  have  melted, 

Yet  you  linger  in  your  sin." 

He  realized  that  this  was  a  truthful  picture  of  his 
own  life,  and  Hstened  to  the  third  verse,  ending: 

"  While  the  Spirit  now  is  striving, 
Yield,  and  seek  the  Saviour's  side." 

Deeply  convicted,  he  jumped  to  his  feet  and  said,  "  I 
will  yield,  I  will  seek  the  Saviour's  side."  He  was 
converted,  and  attended  the  meetings  regularly.  He 
secured  good  employment,  wrote  to  his  family,  and 
becoming  reconciled  to  his  wife  and  children,  he  re- 
turned West  to  the  old  home,  where  he  lived  as  an 
earnest  Christian. 

Come,  Great  Deliverer,  Come 

Words  by  Fanny  J.  Crosby  Music  by  W.  H.  Doanc 

"O  hear  my  cry,  be  gracious  now  to  me. 
Come,  Great  Deliverer,  come." 

A  short  time  ago,  about  twelve  o'clock  one  frosty 
Saturday  night,  when  the  keen  winter  wind  was  driving 
all  indoors  who  had  a  home,  a  poor  woman,  in  utter 
misery  and  despair,  was  pacing  up  and  down  along  the 
Thames,''  writes  a  friend  in  England.  She  had  wan- 
dered into  a  mission  hall  during  the  evening  and  had 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  77 


restlessly  come  out,  carrying  no  remembrance  of  any- 
thing that  had  been  said ;  but  these  lines  from  a  hymn 
still  sounded  in  her  ears : 

*rve  wandered  far  away  o'er  mountains  cold. 
I've  wandered  far  away  from  home; 
O  take  me  now,  and  bring  me  to  Thy  fold, 
Come,  Great  Deliv'rer,  come." 

She  cried  aloud :  '  But  there  is  no  deliverer  for 
me.'  Very  soon  she  was  met  by  some  Christian  work- 
ers, who  were  spending  the  night  in  seeking  to  gather 
in  such  outcasts  as  she.  They  took  her  to  a  home.  The 
human  tenderness  revealed  to  her  the  divine  love.  If 
strangers  had  thus  received  her  and  cared  for  her, 
would  not  her  Heavenly  Father,  whose  love  she  had 
heard  of,  take  her?  Thus  she  was  led  to  the  feet  of 
Jesus,  and  to  find  that  her  sins  were  many  and  all  for- 
given. She  said :  '  Things  since  then  have  been  up 
and  down  with  me,  but  I  have  never  lost  the  peace  I 
found  that  morning.'  " 

Come,  Sinner,  Come 

Words  by  the  Rev.  W.  E.  Witter  Music  by  H.  R.  Palmer 

*'While  Jesus  whispers  to  you, 
Come,  sinner,  come.'' 

Mr.  Witter  has  said  regarding  this  hymn :  "I  may 
say  that  the  origin  of  '  While  Jesus  whispers  to  you  '  is 
forever  linked  with  some  of  the  most  sacred  experi- 
ences of  my  life.  I  see  the  old  farmhouse  in  New  York 
State,  overlooking  the  beautiful  Wyoming  Valley,  and 
those  Western  hills,  which  to  my  childhood  eyes  were 
the  rim  of  the  world.  It  was  in  the  summer  of  1877 
and  I  was  home  from  college  to  nurse  my  sainted 


78  Sankey  s  Story 


mother  through  her  last  illness,  and  at  the  same  time 
I  was  teaching  a  term  in  school.  The  biography  of 
P.  P.  BHss  was  in  our  home,  and  his  sweet  songs  were 
running  through  my  mind  from  morn  till  evening.  I 
prayed  that  even  I  might  be  inspired  to  write  such 
hymns  as  would  touch  hard  hearts  and  lead  them  to 
Christ.  One  Saturday  afternoon,  while  bunching  the 
hay  which  had  been  mown  along  the  roadside,  the 
words  of  this  little  hymn  seemed  to  sing  themselves 
into  my  soul,  and  with  music  almost  identical  with  that 
to  which  they  were  later  set  by  the  sweet  singer, 
Palmer.  I  hastened  to  the  house  and,  running  upstairs, 
knelt  beside  the  bed  of  a  brother,  for  whose  salvation 
my  mother  was  in  constant  prayer.  There,  upon  my 
knees,  I  transcribed  the  words  to  paper,  with  a  strange 
consciousness  that  they  were  God-given  and  that  God 
would  use  them.'' 

And  God  has  used  them,  for  this  hymn  has  been 
found  very  helpful  as  an  invitation  at  revival  meetings. 

Come,  Thou  Fount 

Words  by  the  Rev.  R.  Robinson  Music  by  John  Wyeth 

"Come  thou  Fount  of  ev'ry  blessing 
Tune  my  heart  to  sing  Thy  grace." 

The  author  of  this  hymn,  born  in  1735,  was  of 
lowly  parentage.  At  the  age  of  fourteen  his  widowed 
mother  sent  him  to  London  to  learn  the  trade  of  barber 
and  hair-dresser.  His  master  found  him  more  given 
to  reading  than  to  his  profession.  While  in  London 
he  attended  meetings  held  by  the  great  evangelist, 
George  Whitefield,  became  converted,  and  began  to 
study  for  the  ministry.    In  the  latter  part  of  his  life 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  79 


Mr.  Robinson  often  indulged  in  frivolous  habits.  But 
on  one  occasion,  while  traveling  in  a  stage-coach,  he 
encountered  a  lady  who  soon  compelled  him  to  admit 
his  acquaintance  with  religion.  She  had  just  been 
reading  this  hymn,  and  she  asked  his  opinion  of  it,  after 
having  told  him  of  the  blessings  it  had  brought  to  her 
heart.  He  avoided  the  subject  and  turned  her  atten- 
tion to  some  other  topic;  but  the  lady,  who  did  not 
know  to  whom  she  was  talking,  soon  returned  to  the 
hymn,  expressing  her  strong  admiration  for  its  senti- 
ments. Agitated  beyond  the  power  of  controlling  his 
emotion,  Robinson  broke  out : 

Madam,  I  am  the  poor,  unhappy  man  who  com- 
posed that  hymn  many  years  ago,  and  I  would  give  a 
thousand  worlds,  if  I  had  them,  to  enjoy  the  feelings  I 
had  then." 

Come  to  the  Saviour 

Words  by  George  F.  Root  Music  by  George  F.  Root 

"Come  to  the  Saviour,  make  no  delay; 
Here  in  His  word  He's  shown  us  the  way.*' 

"  In  1879  I  was  assisting  in  revival  meetings  in 
Danville,  California,''  writes  the  pastor  of  a  Presby- 
terian Church  at  Oakland.  The  meetings  were  well 
attended  and  good  interest  was  exhibited,  but  for  a 
long  time  there  were  no  conversions.  In  the  neighbor- 
hood there  was  a  man  who,  with  his  wife  and  children, 
attended  the  church  regularly,  and  he  was  one  of  its 
liberal  supporters.  They  were  most  excellent  people,  but 
could  not  be  induced  to  profess  Christ,  and  did  not  call 
themselves  Christians.  One  day,  while  the  men  were 
holding  services  in  the  church  the  women  were  having 


8o  Sankey  s  Story 


a  prayer-meeting  in  the  manse  near  by.  In  the  course 
of  the  meeting  they  sang,  '  Come  to  the  Saviour,  make 
no  delay/  The  singing  over,  they  were  about  to  en- 
gage in  prayer,  when  the  lady  above  referred  to  asked 
them  to  sing  the  last  verse  of  this  hymn.    They  sang : 

'Think  once  again,  He's  with  us  to-day; 
Heed  now  His  blest  commands,  and  obey; 
Hear  now  His  accents  tenderly  say. 
Will  you,  my  children,  come?' 

"  The  lady  was  greatly  affected  and  when  the 
singing  ceased  she  said  with  deep  emotion :  '  Yes,  I 
will  come;  I  have  been  very  stubborn,  but  I  will  not 
stay  away  any  longer.'  The  women  were  all  deeply 
moved,  and  prayed  and  praised  God  with  warm  hearts. 
When  the  word  reached  the  men  they  were  greatly 
encouraged  at  the  good  news.  A  revival  followed, 
and  at  the  close  of  a  touching  service  a  few  days  later, 
when  a  call  was  made  for  persons  who  desired  to  unite 
with  the  church,  this  lady  and  her  husband  were  the 
first  to  respond.  They  were  followed  by  some  of  their 
own  children  and  many  other  persons — in  all  twenty- 
one.  This  hymn  seemed  to  have  been  the  means  of 
reaching  the  wife's  heart,  and  of  opening  the  way  for 
the  blessing  which  followed.'' 

Come  Unto  Me 

Words  by  Nathaniel  Norton  Music  by  George  C.  Stebbins 

"  *Come  unto  Me!*  it  is  the  Saviour's  voice — 
The  Lord  of  life,  who  bids  thy  heart  rejoice." 

A  man  of  culture  and  of  extensive  reading  had 
given  a  good  deal  of  thought  to  the  subject  of  Chris- 
tianity, but  had  never  acknowledged  himself  a  Chris- 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  8i 


tian  until  one  evening  at  the  close  of  an  after-meeting 
in  services  conducted  by  Dr.  George  F.  Pentecost  in  his 
own  church  in  Brooklyn.  Then  he  arose  and  made  a 
public  confession  of  Christ  as  his  Saviour.  That 
night,  on  his  return  home,  he  sat  down  and  wrote  the 
words  of  this  hymn.  The  next  day  they  were  handed 
to  Mr.  Stebbins,  who  was  then  assisting  Dr.  Pentecost. 
Very  soon  afterward  the  hymn  was  sung  in  the  meet- 
ings that  were  still  in  progress.  It  at  once  met  with 
general  favor,  and  for  many  years  was  used  as  a  special 
song  of  invitation  in  our  meetings,  as  well  as  by  other 
evangelists  in  theirs. 


Come  Unto  Me,  and  Rest 

Words  by  D.  W.  Whittle  ("  El.  Nathan  ")  Music  by  James  McGranahan 

"Brother,  art  thou  worn  and  weary, 
Tempted,  tried,  and  sore  oppress'd?" 

''On  a  cold  night  in  the  fall  of  1885,  ^  scantily  clad 
man  wandered  into  Bleecker  Street/'  writes  a  New 
York  evangelist,  under  whose  personal  observation  the 
incident  came.  ''He  was  foot-sore  and  weary  with 
much  wandering,  worn  out  for  want  of  sleep,  and  faint 
from  lack  of  food.  The  long,  cold  night  was  before 
him,  and  he  knew  he  must  walk  the  street  till  morning. 
He  stepped  into  a  doorway  for  a  little  rest.  As  he 
sat  there  he  fell  to  pondering.  He  was  solitary  and 
sad-hearted.  Drink  had  wrought  fearful  havoc  with 
him,  and  had  left  him  a  homeless,  friendless  man. 
Home  and  loved  ones,  friends,  money  and  position  had 
all  been  sacrificed  to  this  appetite.  He  felt  that  he 
was  lost,  and  that  no  effort  could  save  him.     As  he 


82  Sankey's  Story 


thus  mused  his  reverie  was  broken  by  the  sound  of 
song.  Surprised,  he  looked  up  in  the  direction  from 
which  the  sound  came,  and  saw  across  the  way  an  iUu- 
minated  sign  on  which  were  the  words, '  Florence  Mis- 
sion/ Glad  to  get  away  from  the  chill  and  gloom  of 
the  street,  he  went  into  the  mission.  As  he  entered  a 
lady  was  singing : 

'Brother,  art  thou  worn  and  weary, 
Tempted,  tried,  and  sore  oppressed? 

Listen  to  the  word  of  Jesus, 
Come  unto  me,  and  rest!' 

*  ''If  there  was  one  thing  on  earth  that  the  man 
needed  it  was  rest.  Rest  for  the  tired,  famished  body ; 
rest  for  the  tortured  heart.  '  These  things  are  not  for 
me,'  he  thought ;  '  I  am  too  far  gone.'  He  wandered 
the  cold  streets  till  morning,  but  never  once  did  the 
words  of  this  hymn  leave  him.  The  refrain  constantly 
rang  in  his  ears,  '  Come  unto  me  and  rest.'  He  visited 
the  mission  many  nights,  and  finally  gave  his  heart  to 
God." 

The  evangelist  adds  that  this  man  has  been  his 
assistant  for  many  years,  and  has  won  hundreds  to 
Christ. 

Consecration 

Words  by  Frances  R.  Havergal      Music  by  W.  A.  Mozart,    Arr.  by  H.  P.  Main 

Take  my  life,  and  let  it  be 
Consecrated,  Lord,  to  Thee." 

One  of  the  finest  consecration  hymns  in  the 
world,  this  is  a  great  favorite  of  the  Christian  Endeavor 
Society.    Miss  Havergal  told  me  of  its  origin,  while 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  83 


we  were  seated  in  her  home  in  South  Wales.  She 
had  gone  to  London  for  a  visit  of  five  days.  There 
were  ten  persons  in  the  family  she  visited,  most  of 
them  unconverted.  She  prayed  to  God  to  give  her  all 
in  the  house,  and  before  leaving  everyone  had  received 
a  blessing.  The  last  night  of  her  visit,  after  she  had 
retired,  the  governess  told  her  that  the  two  daughters 
wished  to  see  her.  They  were  much  troubled  over 
their  spiritual  condition  and  were  weeping,  but  Miss 
Havergal  was  able  to  show  them  the  way  of  life,  and 
they  were  both  joyfully  converted  that  night.  She  was 
too  happy  to  sleep,  she  said,  but  spent  most  of  the  night 
in  praise  and  renewal  of  her  own  consecration ;  and 
that  night  the  words  of  this  hymn  formed  themselves 
in  her  mind.  In  1879,  shortly  before  her  death,  I  gave 
a  number  of  Bible-readings  in  Miss  Havergal's  home, 
when  she  told  me  the  very  interesting  story  of  her  life. 

A  few  years  later  I  met  Miss  HavergaFs  sister 
again  under  somewhat  amusing  conditions.  I  was 
traveling  in  Switzerland.  While  looking  through  a 
large  music  establishment  I  found  quite  a  number  of 
music  boxes,  which  played  several  of  the  "Moody  and 
Sankey  "  hymns.  I  asked  the  proprietor  if  these  boxes 
had  much  of  a  sale.  He  said  they  had,  though  he  did 
not  think  much  of  the  tunes  they  played.  Beside  me 
was  standing  a  lady,  also  looking  at  the  music  boxes. 
She  proved  to  be  Miss  Havergal's  sister.  As  she 
turned  around  and  saw  me,  she  threw  up  her  hands  and 
said  in  a  clear  voice,  "  Oh,  Mr.  Sankey,  is  that  you  ?  " 
The  proprietor  proceeded  to  make  profound  apologies 
and,  selecting  one  of  his  best  boxes,  he  presented  it 
to  me. 


84  Sankey's  Story 


Dare  to  be  a  Daniel 

Words  by  P.  P.  Bliss  Music  by  P.  P.  Bliss 

"Standing  by  a  purpose  true, 
Heeding  God's  command." 

Mr.  Bliss  wrote  this  song  especially  for  his 
Sunday-school  class  in  the  First  Congregational 
Church  of  Chicago.  It  has  been  much  admired  and 
was  often  used  by  me  in  connection  with  Mr.  Moody's 
lecture  on  Daniel.  This  hymn  and  Hold  the  Fort 
were  prohibited  by  the  Sultan  from  use  in  Turkey. 

Dark  is  the  Night 

Words  by  Fanny  J.  Crosby  Music  by  T.  E.  Perkins 

"  Dark  is  the  night,  and  cold  the  wind  is  blowing, 
Nearer  and  nearer  comes  the  breakers'  roar;" 

When  I  was  chorister  in  Mr.  Moody's  Sunday- 
school,  on  the  north  side  of  Chicago,  we  frequently 
used  this  hymn.  On  the  memorable  Sunday  night 
when  the  city  was  destroyed  by  fire,  and  I  had  made 
my  escape  in  a  small  boat  out  into  Lake  Michigan,  this 
song  came  to  my  mind,  and  as  I  sat  there  watching 
the  city  burn  I  sang : 

"Dark  is  the  night,  and  cold  the  wind  is  blowing, 
Nearer  and  nearer  comes  the  breakers*  roar; 
Where  shall  I  go,  or  whither  fly  for  refuge? 
Hide  me,  my  Father,  till  the  storm  is  o*er." 

Depth  of  Mercy 

Words  by  Charles  Wesley  Music  arr.  from  J.  Stevenson 

"Depth  of  mercy!  can  there  be 
Mercy  still  reserved  for  me?" 

An  actress  in  a  town  in  England,  while  passing 
along  the  street,  heard  singing  in  a  house.  Out  of 
curiosity  she  looked  in  through  the  open  door  and  saw 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  85 


a  number  of  people  sitting  together  singing  this  hymn. 
She  hstened  to  the  song,  and  afterwards  to  a  simple 
but  earnest  prayer.  When  she  went  away  the  hymn 
had  so  impressed  her  that  she  procured  a  copy  of  a 
book  containing  it.  Reading  and  re-reading  the  hymn 
led  her  to  give  her  heart  to  God  and  to  resolve  to  leave 
the  stage.  The  manager  of  the  theater  pleaded  with 
her  to  continue  to  take  the  leading  part  in  a  play  which 
she  had  made  famous  in  other  cities,  and  finally  he  per- 
suaded her  to  appear  at  the  theater.  As  the  curtain 
rose  the  orchestra  began  to  play  the  accompaniment 
to  the  song  which  she  was  expected  to  sing.  She 
stood  like  one  lost  in  thought,  and  the  band,  supposing 
her  embarrassed,  played  the  prelude  over  a  second 
and  a  third  time.  Then  with  clasped  hands  she  step- 
ped forward  and  sang  with  deep  emotion : 

"Depth  of  mercy,  can  there  be 
Mercy  still  reserved  for  me?" 

This  put  a  sudden  stop  to  the  performance;  not 
a  few  were  impressed,  though  many  scofifed.  The 
change  in  her  life  was  as  permanent  as  it  was  singular. 
Soon  after  she  became  the  wife  of  a  minister  of  the 
Gospel. 

First  pubHshed  in  "  Hymns  and  Sacred  Poems  " 
in  1740,  this  hymn  has  been  set  to  a  number  of  tunes. 
But  the  most  popular  one  in  America  is  the  melody 
arranged  from  Stevenson,  with  the  chorus,  "God  is 
love !    I  know,  I  feel ;  Jesus  lives  and  loves  me  still." 


86  Sankey's  Story 


Doxology 

Words  by  Thomas  Ken,  1695  Music  by  Wilhelm  Frank 

"Praise  God,  from  whom  all  blessings  flow." 
Praise  Him,  all  creatures  here  below." 

On  the  night  of  October  15,  1884,  a  great  crowd 
was  gathered  on  the  street  outside  a  RepubHcan  head- 
quarters in  New  York  City,  awaiting  the  returns  of  an 
important  election.  It  was  tw^o  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing before  the  last  bulletin  was  posted.  Previous  to 
this  announcement  a  thousand  voices  had  been  singing 
uproariously,  ''We  won't  go  home  till  morning;"  but 
the  moment  the  message  was  displayed  the  stereopti- 
con  flashed  out  the  line,  *'  Praise  God,  from  whom  all 
blessings  flow.  Good  night."  The  Tribune,  in  re- 
porting the  incident,  said :  ''A  deep-voiced  man  in  the 
throng  pitched  the  doxology,  and  a  mighty  volume 
of  song  swelled  upward.  Then  the  lights  went  out  and 
the  happy  watchers  departed  to  their  homes." 

A  child  on  the  top  of  Mount  Washington  was  with 
her  father  above  the  clouds,  while  a  thunder-storm 
flashed  and  rumbled  below.  Where  they  stood  all  was 
perfect  calm  and  sunshine,  though  the  eye  found  noth- 
ing but  the  blue  of  heaven  and  a  few  rocks  to  rest  on. 
''  Well,  Lucy,"  said  her  father,  there  is  nothing  to  be 
seen  here,  is  there?"  But  the  child  exclaimed:  "Oh, 
papa,  I  see  the  doxology !    All  around  seems  to  say, 

*  Praise  God,  from  whom  all  blessings  flow; 
Praise  Him,  all  creatures  here  below; 
Praise  Him  above,  ye  heavenly  host; 
Praise  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost/" 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  87 


The  doxology  was  a  great  solace  to  the  starving 
boys  in  blue  "  in  Libby  prison.  Day  after  day  they 
saw  some  of  their  comrades  passing  away,  while  fresh, 
living  recruits  for  the  grave  arrived.  Late  one  night 
they  heard  through  the  stillness  and  the  darkness  the 
tramp  of  new  arrivals,  who  were  stopped  outside  the 
prison  door  until  arrangement  could  be  made  for  them 
within.  In  the  company  was  a  young  Baptist  minister, 
whose  heart  almost  fainted  as  he  looked  on  those  cold 
walls  and  thought  of  the  sufifering  inside.  Tired  and 
weary,  he  sat  down,  put  his  face  in  his  hands  and  wept 
Just  then  a  lone  voice  of  deep,  sweet  pathos,  sang  from 
an  upper  window : 

"  Praise  God,  from  whom  all  blessings  flow;** 

a  dozen  more  voices  joined  in  the  second  Hne ;  and  so 
on  till  the  prison  was  all  alive  and  seemed  to  quiver 
with  the  sacred  song.  As  the  song  died  away  in  the 
stillness  of  the  night,  the  young  man  arose  and  said : 

^'Prisons  would  palaces  prove, 
If  Jesus  would  dwell  with  me  there.*' 

This  doxology  has  been  almost  universally 
adopted  as  a  praise  hymn  by  all  churches.  Wilhelm 
Frank,  the  composer  of  the  tune,  ^^Old  Hundred,'*  was 
a  German. 

The  first  Moody  and  Sankey  meeting  held  in  the 
Agricultural  Hall,  London,  was  opened  by  the  singing 
of  "  Praise  God,  from  whom  all  blessings  flow," 


88 


Sankeys  Story 


Eternity 


Words  by  Ellen  M.  H.  Gates 


Music  by  P.  P.  Bliss 


'Oh,  the  clanging  bells  of  Time! 
Night  and  day  they  never  cease." 


Having  carried  in  my  pocket  for  several  months 
the  words  of  the  hymn  ''Eternity,"  which  the  author, 
Ellen  M.  H.  Gates,  had  sent  me,  I  handed  them,  one 
day  in  Chicago  in  1876,  to  my  friend  P.  P.  Bliss,  ask- 
ing him  to  write  music  for  them.  Three  days  later  he 
had  composed  the  tune. 

The  hymn  was  much  used  at  our  meetings  both  in 
Great  Britain  and  the  United  States.  Before  singing 
it,  I  used  to  tell  the  story  of  Robert  Annan,  of  Dundee, 
Scotland.  He  was  one  of  the  worst  men  who  ever 
lived  in  that  town,  but  after  having  been  converted 
became  one  of  the  most  useful  missionaries  of  the 
place.  On  leaving  his  little  cottage  home  one  morning 
to  go  to  his  mission  work,  he  took  a  piece  of  chalk  from 
his  pocket  and  wrote  on  the  flagstone  of  the  walk 
which  led  to  his  house  the  single  word  "  Eternity." 
A  few  minutes  later  he  saw  a  child  fall  from  one  of  the 
vessels  in  the  harbor.  Being  a  bold,  strong  swimmer, 
he  threw  off  his  coat  and  shoes,  and  plunged  into  the 
bay.  He  saved  the  child,  but  at  the  cost  of  his  own 
life.  His  body  was  carried  home  over  the  word 
''Eternity,"  which  he  had  written  a  few  hours  before. 
On  my  last  visit  to  Scotland,  about  five  years  ago,  I 
went  to  see  his  widow,  and  found  that  the  writing  had 
been  cut  in  the  stone  by  direction  of  the  Honorable 
James  Gordon,  the  Earl  of  Aberdeen.  Thousands  go 
to  see  it  every  year.    Mr.  Annan's  minister  took  me 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  89 


to  the  beautiful  cemetery  of  the  place,  where  a  fine 
monument,  ten  feet  high,  marks  the  last  resting-place 
of  the  hero. 

A  worker  in  the  English  Village  Mission  writes: 
I  had  been  engaged  during  the  previous  week  with 
a  lot  of  indifferent  people  in  a  midland  village  without 
the  smallest  token  of  blessing,  and  on  that  memorable 
Sunday  night  of  the  Tay  Bridge  disaster  I  went  to  the 
service  with  a  sad  heart.  The  service  was  a  solemn 
one,  and  at  the  close  we  sang : 

*Oh,  the  clanging  bells  of  Time! 
Night  and  day  they  never  cease.' 

"The  song  touched  the  hearts  of  the  people.  About 
this  time,  as  we  afterwards  learned,  a  number  of  con- 
versions occurred,  and  a  blessing  has  rested  on  that 
place  for  many  years.  One  of  the  converts  has  been 
a  very  successful  missionary  in  a  large  northern  city. 
I  can  scarcely  remember  any  place  where  some  one  or 
more  of  your  songs  and  solos  was  not  used  of  God  in 
blessing  souls.  In  one  church  alone  I  received  one 
hundred  and  fifty  into  fellowship,  and  I  think  not  less 
than  one-third  of  that  number,  when  making  applica- 
tion for  membership,  mentioned  some  particular  hymn 
that  had  led  them  to  decision." 

Evening  Prayer 

Words  by  J.  Edmeston  Music  by  George  C.  Stebbins 

^'Saviour,  breathe  an  evening  blessing, 
Ere  repose  our  spirits  seal." 

It  rarely  falls  to  the  lot  of  any  hymn  to  be  sung 
under  such  trying  circumstances  as  was  this,  during  the 
Boxer  outbreak  in  China,  by  a  company  of  beleaguered 


go  Safikeys  Story 


missionaries  who  had  gathered  together  one  night  in 
great  fear  lest  they  should  have  to  suffer  the  fate  of  so 
many  who  were  giving  up  their  lives  rather  than  deny 
their  Lord.  The  following  account  of  the  singing  is 
furnished  by  Miss  Helen  Knox  Strain,  one  of  the  mis- 
sionaries present  that  night. 

"  The  Woman's  Union  Missionary  Society  has  a 
magnificent  work  just  outside  of  the  city  of  Shanghai. 
No  harm  had  come  to  us  up  to  this  time,  but  serious 
threats  and  unpleasant  rumors  were  rife ;  we  dared  not 
so  much  as  put  our  heads  out  at  night,  though  forty 
little  soldier-men  played  at  keeping  us  safe.  Our  mis- 
sionaries have  two  centers  at  that  place,  and  they  meet 
often  for  prayer  and  consultation.  At  this  particular 
time  the  rumors  were  so  frightful,  and  the  threats  to 
burn  our  homes  that  very  night  so  distressing,  that  we 
had  a  memorable  meeting.  Separated  from  home  and 
friends,  facing  death  in  a  far-off  land,  and  full  of  ten- 
derest  feelings,  we  lifted  our  hearts  in  song. 

'  Though  destruction  walk  around  us, 

Though  the  arrows  past  us  fly; 
Angel  guards  from  Thee  surround  us: 
We  are  safe  if  Thou  art  nigh.' 

Out  of  the  stonn  each  soul,  renewing  its 
strength,  mounted  up  with  wings  as  eagles  and  found 
peace  in  the  secret  of  His  presence. 

"  Our  Saviour  breathed,  in  very  deed,  an  '  evening 
blessing'  upon  us,  the  fragrance  of  which  remains 
even  unto  this  day.  The  last  verse  of  the  hymn, 
*  Should  swift  death  this  night  overtake  us,'  was  omit- 
ted.    It  seemed  too  probable  that  it  might.  We 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  91 


wanted  only  to  think  of  the  safe-keeping,  and  such, 
thank  God,  it  proved  to  be/' 

Edmeston,  a  voluminous  hymn-writer,  was  an 
architect  by  profession,  and  a  member  of  the  Estab- 
lished Church  at  Homerton,  England,  where  he  re- 
sided. The  theme  of  this  hymn  was  suggested  to 
him  by  a  sentence  in  a  volume  of  Abyssinian  travels — 
"  At  night  their  short  evening  hymn,  '  Jesus  Forgive 
Us,'  stole  through  the  camp."  Though  first  appear- 
ing in  the  author's  Sacred  Lyrics  "  in  1820,  and  to 
be  found  in  the  older  church  hymnals,  it  had  no  spe- 
cial prominence  until  Mr.  Stebbins'  setting  became 
known.  Since  then  it  has  come  into  general  use,  and 
has  been  adopted  by  many  of  the  church  hymnals. 
The  music  was  written  in  1876,  for  the  choir  of  Tre- 
mont  Temple,  Boston,  of  which  Mr.  Stebbins  was 
then  the  director.  Published  two  years  later  in  Gos- 
pel Hymns  Number  3,"  it  became  a  favorite  at  once 
with  the  great  choirs  of  our  meetings  and  with  other 
evangelistic  choirs,  and  has  since  then  been  used 
wherever  the  Gospel  Hymns  "  are  sung,  even  in  the 
remote  places  of  the  earth. 

Even  Me 

Words  by  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Codner  Music  by  William  B.  Bradbury 

**Lord,  I  hear  of  showers  of  blessing 
Thou  art  scattering  full  and  free." 

A  gentleman  in  England  sends  this  incident :  "  A 
poor  woman,  in  a  dark  village,  attended  a  High  Church 
mission,  where  the  good  Gospel  hymn,  '  Even  Me  ' 
was  sung  from  a  printed  leaflet.    A  few  days  after- 


92  Sankeys  Story 


ward  the  old  woman  became  seriously  ill,  and  soon  she 
died.  But  she  seemed  to  have  taken  in  all  the  Gospel 
through  this  hymn,  and  to  the  last  repeated  with  rever- 
ence and  joy  '  Even  me,  even  me,'  not  remembering 
one  word  of  the  sermon  that  she  heard  at  the  mission. 
This  was  in  1877.  Soon  after  we  had  an  evangelistic 
meeting  in  the  same  village,  in  a  barn  three  hundred 
years  old,  where  this  hymn  was  sung  with  great  effect." 

Follow  On 

Words  by  W.  O.  Gushing  Music  by  Robert  Lowry 

*'Down  in  the  valley  with  my  Saviour  I  would  go 
Where  the  flowers  are  blooming  and  the  sweet  waters  flow/' 

"I  wrote  this  hymn  in  1878,''  the  Rev.  W.  O. 
Gushing  tells  me.  Longing  to  give  up  all  for  Christ 
who  had  given  his  life  for  me,  I  wanted  to  be  willing 
to  lay  everything  at  his  feet,  with  no  wish  but  to  do  his 
will,  to  live  henceforth  only  for  his  glory.  Out  of  this 
feeUng  came  the  hymn,  *  Follow  On.'  It  was  written 
with  the  prayer  and  the  hope  that  some  heart  might 
by  it  be  led  to  give  up  all  for  Christ.  Much  of  the 
power  and  usefulness  of  the  hymn,  however,  are  due 
to  Mr.  Lowry,  who  put  it  into  song." 

Go  Bury  Thy  Sorrow 

Words  by  Mary  A.  Bachelor  Music  by  P.  P.  Bliss 

"Go  bury  thy  sorrow. 
The  world  hath  its  share." 

For  many  years  this  hymn  was  one  of  my  favorite 
solos.  In  its  original  form  it  read,  "  Bury  thy  sorrow, 
hide  it  with  care;"  but  when  Mr.  Bliss  found  it  in  a 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  93 


newspaper  he  arranged  it  to  read,  "Go  bury  thy  sor- 
row, the  world  hath  its  share,''  and  set  it  to  music.  It 
has  been  blessed  to  thousands  of  people,  and  will  remain 
as  one  of  his  best  productions  when  many  of  his  other 
songs  are  forgotten. 

The  author  of  the  hymn  was  the  daughter  of  a 
minister.  When  she  wrote  these  lines  she  was  living 
with  her  brother,  whom  she  greatly  loved.  He  also 
w^as  a  minister,  and  had  the  usual  cares  and  burdens  to 
carry  that  are  incident  to  a  pastor's  life.  To  him  she 
confided  all  her  joys  and  sorrows.  One  day,  after  hav- 
ing disclosed  to  him  some  peculiar  trial  which  she  was 
enduring,  she  was  reproached  by  her  conscience  for 
having  needlessly  added  to  his  already  numerous  cares. 
She  stood  by  the  open  window,  and  saw  the  long,  heavy 
shadows  cast  by  the  tall  poplar  trees  across  the  lawn, 
and  the  thought  came  to  her : 

"That  is  just  what  I  have  done  to  my  brother! 
Why  did  I  do  it  ?  Why  did  I  not  rather  bury  my  own 
sorrow,  and  allow  only  words  of  cheer  and  brightness 
to  reach  his  ears  ?  " 

With  such  thoughts  in  her  mind,  and  with  tears  of 
regret  filling  her  eyes,  she  retired  to  her  little  attic 
bedroom,  and  there  wrote  the  hymn  that  has  been  so 
blessed. 

A  lady  who  had  suffered  much,  and  had  passed 
through  many  great  trials,  set  much  store  by  this  hymn. 
One  day  as  she  sang  it  her  little  daughter,  who  was 
playing  in  the  room,  looked  up  into  her  mother's  face 


94 


Sankey's  Story 


and  saw  tears  rolling  down  her  cheeks.  The  child 
called  out : 

Mamma,  are  you  digging  the  sorrows  all  up 
again?" 

God  Be  With  You 

Words  by  J.  E.  Rankin,  D.D.  Music  by  W.  G.  Tomer 

''God  be  with  you  till  we  meet  again; 
By  His  counsels  guide,  uphold  you." 

The  late  Dr.  Rankin,  president  of  Howard  Uni- 
versity, Washington,  D.  C,  said  regarding  this  oft- 
used  parting  hymn :  "  Written  in  1882  as  a  Christian 
good-bye,  it  was  called  forth  by  no  person  or  occasion, 
but  was  deliberately  composed  as  a  Christian  hymn 
on  the  basis  of  the  etymology  of  '  good-bye,'  which  is 
*  God  be  with  you.'  The  first  stanza  was  written  and 
sent  to  two  composers — one  of  unusual  note,  the  other 
wholly  unknown  and  not  thoroughly  educated  in 
music.  I  selected  the  composition  of  the  latter,  sub- 
mitted it  to  J.  W.  Bischoff — the  musical  director  of  a 
Httle  book  we  were  preparing — who  approved  of  it, 
but  made  some  criticisms,  which  were  adopted.  It 
was  sung  for  the  first  time  one  evening  in  the  First 
Congregational  Church  in  Washington,  of  which  I  was 
then  the  pastor  and  Mr.  Bischoff  the  organist.  I  at- 
tributed its  popularity  in  no  little  part  to  the  music 
to  which  it  was  set.  It  was  a  wedding  of  words  and 
music,  at  which  it  was  my  function  to  preside ;  but  Mr. 
Tomer  should  have  his  full  share  of  the  family  honor." 

William  Gould  Tomer,  the  author  of  the  music, 
is  of  German  ancestry.    He  has  been  a  school  teacher, 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  95 


a  soldier  in  the  civil  war,  and  a  clerk  in  the  Treasury 
department.  He  was  teaching  school  in  1882  when 
he  wrote  the  music  of  "  God  be  with  you." 

Hallelujah,  'tis  Done ! 

Words  by  P.  P.  Bliss  Music  by  P.  P.  Bliss 

'Tis  the  promise  of  God  full  salvation  to  give, 
Unto  him  who  on  Jesus,  his  Son,  will  believe." 

A  minister  from  England,  in  telling  of  a  certain 
meeting,  says  : Among  the  converts  was  a  man  some- 
what advanced  in  years,  who  was  very  anxious  about 
the  salvation  of  his  wife,  and  expressed  a  wish  that  I 
should  visit  her.  I  did  so  repeatedly,  and  explained 
to  her  in  very  simple  words  the  plan  of  salvation,  but 
she  could  not  comprehend  the  meaning  of  my  message. 
Every  time  I  left,  however,  she  would  express  a  strong 
desire  that  I  return.  One  day  I  went  in  just  before 
dinner,  and  talked  to  her  about  Jesus,  but  no  light 
seemed  to  dawn  upon  her  mind.  Then  the  thought 
struck  me  to  sing  something  to  her,  and  so  I  com- 
menced, '  'Tis  the  promise  of  God,  full  salvation  to 
give.'  When  I  was  through  the  chorus,  she  exclaimed, 
*  Sing  it  over  again.'  I  did  so,  time  after  time,  and 
when  I  asked  her  to  assist  me,  she  joined  in  very 
heartily.  The  light  dawned  on  her  dark  mind  while 
we  were  singing,  the  big  burden  of  sin  was  removed 
from  her  heart,  and  her  face  was  Hghted  up  with  holy 
joy  as  she  exclaimed,  *  Hallelujah,  'tis  done!  I  do 
believe  in  the  Son;  I  am  saved.'  Just  then  her  hus- 
band walked  in  for  his  dinner,  and  she  shouted  out  to 
him,  '  Ah,  lad !  I've  got  it !    Hallelujah !  'tis  done ! ' 


96  Sankey's  Story 


Their  hearts  were  full  of  joy  over  the  wonderful  dis- 
covery she  had  made,  and  I  was  grateful  to  God  for  a 
sinner  brought  to  Christ  by  the  ministry  of  holy  song." 

In  compiling  his  book,  Gospel  Songs,"  in  1874, 
Mr.  Bliss  desired  to  publish  in  it  the  well-known  hymn, 
"  Hallelujah !  Thine  the  Glory,"  then  much  used  in 
religious  services.  The  owners  of  the  copyright  re- 
fused, and  he  wrote  Hallelujah,  'tis  done,"  both 
words  and  music,  to  supply  the  want.  Hundreds  of 
souls  have  been  led  to  decide  for  Christ  by  this  hymn, 
and  the  church  has  reason  to  rejoice  at  that  refusal. 


Hallelujah,  what  a  Saviour 

Words  by  P.  P.  Bliss  Music  by  P.  P.  Bliss 

"  *  Man  of  Sorrows,'  what  a  name 
For  the  Son  of  God,  who  came." 

Written  in  1876,  shortly  before  his  death,  this  was 
the  last  hymn  I  heard  Mr.  Bliss  sing.  It  was  at  a 
meeting  in  Farwell  Hall  in  Chicago,  conducted  by 
Henry  Moorehouse.  A  few  weeks  before  his  death 
Mr.  Bliss  visited  the  State  prison  at  Jackson,  Michigan, 
where,  after  a  very  touching  address  on  The  Man 
of  Sorrows,''  he  sang  this  hymn  with  great  effect. 
Many  of  the  prisoners  dated  their  conversion  from 
that  day. 

When  Mr.  Moody  and  I  were  in  Paris,  holding 
meetings  in  the  old  church  which  Napoleon  had 
granted  to  the  Evangelicals,  I  frequently  sang  this 
hymn  as  a  solo,  asking  the  congregation  to  join  in  the 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  97 


single  phrase,  Hallelujah,  what  a  Saviour,"  which 
they  did  with  splendid  effect.  It  is  said  that  the  word 
Hallelujah is  the  same  in  all  languages.  It  seems 
as  though  God  had  prepared  it  for  the  great  jubilee  of 
heaven,  when  all  his  children  shall  have  been  gathered 
home  to  sing    Hallelujah  to  the  Lamb !  " 

He  Knows 

Words  by  Mary  G.  Brainard  Music  by  P.  P.  Bliss 

"  I  know  not  what  awaits  me, 
God  kindly  veils  mine  eyes." 

Mr.  Bliss  lost  his  Hfe  in  the  terrible  railroad  wreck 
at  Ashtabula,  Ohio.  His  trunk,  however,  reached  Chi- 
cago safely,  as  it  had  gone  before  by  another  train. 
In  his  trunk  was  discovered  this  hymn.  Mr.  Bliss  had 
rearranged  the  words  of  the  poem  to  some  extent,  and 
had  composed  the  tune.  Sentence  by  sentence,  the 
words  are  full  of  pathetic  interest  in  connection  with 
the  author's  sudden  death  so  soon  afterward. 

He  Leadeth  Me 

Words  by  Joseph  H.  Gilmoee  Music  by  William  B.  Bradbury 

"  He  leadeth  me!   O,  blessed  thought! 
O,  words  with  heavenly  comfort  fraught." 

I  had  been  talking,"  said  Mr.  Gilmore,  at  the 
Wednesday  evening  lecture  of  the  First  Baptist  Church 
of  Philadelphia,  in  1862.  The  Twenty-third  Psalm  was 
my  theme,  and  I  had  been  especially  impressed  with  the 
blessedness  of  being  led  by  God — of  the  mere  fact  of  his 
leadership,  altogether  apart  from  the  way  in  which  he 


98 


Sankey  s  Story 


leads  us  and  what  he  is  leading  us  to.  At  the  close  of 
the  service  we  adjourned  to  Deacon  Watson's  home, 
at  which  I  was  stopping.  We  still  held  before  our 
minds  and  hearts  the  thought  which  I  had  just  empha- 
sized. During  the  conversation,  in  which  several  par- 
ticipated, the  blessedness  of  God's  leadership  so  grew 
upon  me  that  I  took  out  my  pencil,  wrote  the  hymn  just 
as  it  stands  to-day,  handed  it  to  my  wife — and  thought 
no  more  about  it.  She  sent  it  without  my  knowledge 
to  '  The  Watchman  and  Reflector,'  and  there  it  first 
appeared  in  print.  Three  years  later  I  went  to  Roches- 
ter to  preach  for  the  Second  Baptist  Church.  On  enter- 
ing the  chapel  I  took  up  a  hymn-book,  thinking,  '  I 
wonder  what  they  sing.'  The  book  opened  at  '  He 
leadeth  me,'  and  that  was  the  first  time  I  knew  my 
hymn  had  found  a  place  among  the  songs  of  the 
church.  I  shall  never  forget  the  impression  made  upon 
me  by  coming  then  and  there  in  contact  with  my  own 
assertion  of  God's  leadership." 

Mr.  Bradbury,  finding  the  hymn  in  a  Christian 
periodical,  composed  for  it  the  very  appropriate  tune 
with  which  it  has  ever  since  been  associated. 


Here  am  I,  Send  Me 

Words  by  Daniel  March  Music  by  S.  M.  Grannis 

"  Hark!  the  voice  of  Jesus  crying, — 
*  Who  will  go  and  work  to-day?  '  " 

I  found  this  poem  in  a  newspaper  and  set  the 
words  to  a  tune  by  S.  M.  Grannis  entitled  "  Your  Mis- 
sion " — a  hymn  which  was  sung  in  the  Senate  Cham- 
ber in  Washington  by  Philip  Phillips  on  one  occasion 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  99 


when  Abraham  Lincoln  was  present.  The  President 
was  so  charmed  with  the  song  that  he  requested  that 
it  be  repeated. 

Hiding  in  Thee 

Words  by  William  O.  Gushing  Music  by  Ira  D.  Sankey 

"O  safe  to  the  Rock  that  is  higher  than  I, 
My  soul  in  its  conflicts  and  sorrows  would  fly," 

'  Hiding  in  Thee  '  was  written  in  Moravia,  New 
York,  in  1876,''  writes  Mr.  Gushing.  "  It  must  be  said 
of  this  hymn  that  it  was  the  outgrowth  of  many  tears, 
many  heart-conflicts  and  soul-yearnings,  of  which  the 
world  can  know  nothing.  The  history  of  many  battles 
is  behind  it.  But  the  occasion  which  gave  it  being 
was  the  call  of  Mr.  Sankey.  He  said :  '  Send  me  some- 
thing new  to  help  me  in  my  Gospel  work.'  A  call  from 
such  a  source,  and  for  such  a  purpose,  seemed  a  call 
from  God.  I  so  regarded  it,  and  prayed :  '  Lord,  give 
me  something  that  may  glorify  Thee.'  It  was  while 
thus  waiting  that  '  Hiding  in  Thee '  pressed  to  make 
itself  known.  Mr.  Sankey  called  forth  the  tune,  and 
by  his  genius  gave  the  hymn  wings,  making  it  useful 
in  the  Master's  work." 


Ho  !  Reapers  of  Life's  Harvest 

Words  by  I.  B.  Woodbury  Music  by  I.  B.  Woodbury 

"Ho!  reapeis  of  life's  harvest, 
Why  stand  with  rusted  blade?" 

President  Garfield  was  fond  of  this  hymn,  and  it 
was  sung  at  his  funeral.    In  addressing  an  audience  of 


lOO  Sankey's  Story 


young  people  on  one  occasion,  Garfield  said,  in  sub- 
stance, regarding  his  own  conversion : 

Make  the  most  of  the  present  moment.  No 
occasion  is  unworthy  of  our  best  efforts.  God  often 
uses  humble  occasions  and  little  things  to  shape  the 
course  of  a  man's  life.  I  might  say  that  the  wearing 
of  a  certain  pair  of  stockings  led  to  a  complete  change 
in  my  life.  I  had  made  a  trip  as  a  boy  on  a  canal  boat 
and  was  expecting  to  leave  home  for  another  trip ;  but 
I  accidentally  injured  my  foot  in  chopping  wood.  The 
blue  dye  in  my  home-made  socks  poisoned  the  wound 
and  I  was  kept  at  home.  A  revival  broke  out  mean- 
while in  the  neighborhood,  and  I  was  thus  kept  within 
its  influence  and  was  converted.  New  desires  and  new 
purposes  then  took  possession  of  me,  and  I  was  de- 
termined to  seek  an  education  in  order  that  I  might 
live  more  usefully  for  Christ.'' 

It  is  said  that  this  hymn  has  been  the  means  of 
the  conversion  of  thousands  of  souls  in  Australia  and 
Great  Britain. 


Hold  the  Fort 

Words  by  P.  P.  Bliss  Music  by  P.  P.  Bliss 

"Ho!  my  comrades,  see  the  signal 
Waving  in  the  sky!" 

Just  before  Sherman  began  his  famous  march  to 
the  sea  in  1864,  and  while  his  army  lay  camped  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Atlanta  on  the  5th  of  October,  the 
army  of  Hood,  in  a  carefully  prepared  movement, 
passed  the  right  flank  of  Sherman's  army,  gained  his 
rear,  and  commenced  the  destruction  of  the  railroad 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  loi 


leading  north,  burning  blockhouses  and  capturing  the 
small  garrisons  along  the  line.  Sherman's  army  was 
put  in  rapid  motion  pursuing  Hood,  to  save  the  sup- 
pHes  and  larger  posts,  the  principal  one  of  which  was 
located  at  Altoona  Pass.  General  Corse,  of  Illinois, 
was  stationed  here  with  about  fifteen  hundred  men, 
Colonel  Tourtelotte  being  second  in  command.  A 
million  and  a  half  of  rations  were  stored  here  and  it 
was  highly  important  that  the  earthworks  commanding 
the  pass  and  protecting  the  supplies  should  be  held. 
Six  thousand  men  under  command  of  General  French 
were  detailed  by  Hood  to  take  the  position.  The 
works  were  completely  surrounded  and  summoned  to 
surrender.  Corse  refused  and  a  sharp  fight  com- 
menced. The  defenders  were  slowly  driven  into  a  small 
fort  on  the  crest  of  the  hill.  Many  had  fallen,  and  the 
result  seemed  to  render  a  prolongation  of  the  fight 
hopeless.  At  this  moment  an  officer  caught  sight  of 
a  white  sigTial  flag  far  away  across  the  valley,  twenty 
miles  distant,  upon  the  top  of  Kenesaw  Mountain.  The 
signal  was  answered,  and  soon  the  message  was  waved 
across  from  mountain  to  mountain  : 

"  Hold  the  fort ;  I  am  coming.  W.  T.  Sherman.^' 
Cheers  went  up ;  every  man  was  nerved  to  a  full 
appreciation  of  the  position ;  and  under  a  murderous 
fire,  which  killed  or  wounded  more  than  half  the  men 
in  the  fort — Corse  himself  being  shot  three  times 
through  the  head,  and  Tourtelotte  taking  command, 
though  himself  badly  wounded — they  held  the  fort  for 
three  hours  until  the  advance  guard  of  Sherman's  army 
came  up.    French  was  obliged  to  retreat. 

This  historical  incident  was  related  by  Major 


I02  Sankey's  Story 


Whittle  at  a  Sunday-school  meeting  in  Rockford,  Illi- 
nois, in  May,  1870.  Mr.  Bliss  was  present,  and  the 
song  Hold  the  Fort "  was  at  once  born  in  his  mind. 
The  next  day  Whittle  and  Bliss  held  a  meeting  in  the 
Young  Men's  Christian  Association  rooms  in  Chicago. 
Bliss  went  on  the  platform  and  wrote  the  chorus  of 
this  hymn  on  the  blackboard.  He  there  sang  the  verses 
for  the  first  time  in  public,  and  the  audience  joined  in 
the  chorus.  Soon  after  he  had  it  published  in  sheet 
form. 

Mr.  Bliss  said  to  me  once,  not  long  before  his 
death,  that  he  hoped  that  he  would  not  be  known  to 
posterity  only  as  the  author  of  "  Hold  the  Fort,"  for  he 
believed  that  he  had  written  many  better  songs.  How- 
ever, when  I  attended  the  dedication  of  the  Bliss  monu- 
ment, at  Rome,  Pennsylvania,  I  found  these  words 
inscribed : 

P.  P.  BHss, 
Author  of  "Hold  the  Fort.'* 

The  pine  tree  from  which  Sherman's  signal  was 
flown  was  cut  down  a  few  years  after  the  war,  and 
was  made  into  souvenirs,  I  receiving  a  baton  with 
which  to  lead  my  choirs. 

"  Hold  the  Fort "  was  used  frequently  in  our 
meetings  in  Great  Britain  during  1873-4.  Lord 
Shaftesbury  said  at  our  farewell  meeting  in  London : 
If  Mr.  Sankey  has  done  no  more  than  teach  the  peo- 
ple to  sing  '  Hold  the  Fort,'  he  has  conferred  an  inesti- 
mable blessing  on  the  British  empire." 

On  a  trip  to  Switzerland,  in  1879,  I  stopped  over 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  103 

Sunday  in  London  with  the  family  of  William  Higgs, 
and  attended  morning  services  at  the  Metropolitan 
Tabernacle.  While  seated  in  a  pew  with  Mrs.  Higgs 
and  three  of  her  daughters,  I  was  discovered  by  Mr. 
Spurgeon.  At  the  conclusion  of  his  address  he  sent 
one  of  his  deacons  down  to  the  pew,  inviting  me  to  his 
private  room  at  the  rear  of  the  pulpit.  There  I  was 
warmly  greeted  by  the  great  preacher.  In  the  course 
of  our  conversation  he  said :  A  few  days  ago  I  re- 
ceived a  copy  of  a  bill  pending  in  Parliament  in  relation 
to  the  army,  with  a  letter  from  a  Christian  gentleman, 
a  member  of  the  parliament,  asking  if  I  couldn't  preach 
a  sermon  on  this  bill.  I  have  decided  to  preach  that 
sermon  to-night,  and  I  want  you  to  come  and  sing, 
'  Hold  the  Fort.'  I  replied  that  he  was  not  a  man  to 
be  denied ;  and  although  I  had  not  expected  to  sing  in 
public  in  London  on  this  trip,  I  would  gladly  comply 
with  his  wish  if  I  could  have  a  small  organ  to  accom- 
pany myself  upon.  This  I  supposed  that  he  would  not 
have,  as  he  did  not  approve  of  organs  at  public  worship 
and  never  used  one  in  his  church ;  but  he  replied  that 
when  I  arrived  at  the  meeting  there  would  be  an  instru- 
ment on  the  platform  for  me.  In  the  evening,  at  the 
close  of  his  address  he  announced  that  I  was  present 
and  would  sing  Hold  the  Fort and  he  asked  them 
all  to  join  heartily  in  the  chorus.  An  organ  had  been 
secured  from  the  Students'  College.  When  the  chorus 
was  sung  it  was  heard  blocks  away.  At  the  conclusion 
of  the  service  Mr.  Spurgeon  exclaimed :  There  now, 
I  think  our  roof  will  stay  on  after  that !  '' 

On  reaching  Switzerland  I  sang  in  many  cities. 
Sailing  across  Lake  Lucerne,  and  ascending  the  Rigi, 


I04  Sankeys  Story 


there  I  again  sang  Hold  the  Fort/*  much  to  the  in- 
terest of  the  Swiss  peasants. 

An  indication  of  the  impression  this  and  other 
American  songs  made  upon  the  people  may  be  seen  in 
the  case  of  the  two  actors  who  came  on  the  stage  in 
one  of  the  largest  theaters  in  England  and  attempted 
to  caricature  Mr.  Moody  and  myself.  The  galleries 
struck  up  Hold  the  Fort/'  and  kept  on  singing  the 
piece  until  the  actors  had  to  withdraw  from  the  stage. 
On  their  reappearing,  with  the  purpose  of  continuing 
the  performance,  the  song  was  again  started,  and  con- 
tinued until  that  part  of  the  entertainment  was  given 
up.  I  have  been  informed  that  the  cabling  of  this  inci- 
dent to  this  country  at  the  time  it  took  place  turned 
the  attention  of  our  countrymen  more  thoroughly  to 
our  work  across  the  sea  than  all  the  reports  previously 
sent  in  relation  to  the  movement  over  there. 


Shortly  after  the  evangelistic  work  of  Henry  Var- 
ley  in  Yorkville  and  Toronto,  about  1875,  when  the 
songs  in  the  first  edition  of  Gospel  Hymns  "  were 
heard  all  over  the  land,  a  carpenter  and  his  apprentice 
were  working  on  a  building  in  Yorkville.  The  man 
was  a  Christian  and  had  consecrated  his  fine  tenor  voice 
to  the  Master's  use.  The  boy  had  just  given  himself 
to  Jesus  and  was  also  a  singer  for  the  Lord.  One 
morning,  as  they  met  at  the  usual  hour  for  work,  the 
following  dialogue  took  place  between  them : 

"  Do  you  know  who  is  coming  here  to  work  to- 
day?" 

"  No,  I  did  not  hear  of  anybody  coming  here/' 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  105 


"  Well,  there  is ;  and  it  is  Tommy  Dodd." 
And  who  might  Tommy  Dodd  be  ?  " 
He  is  a  painter,  and  the  greatest  drunkard  and 
wife-beater  in  Yorkville/' 

Well,  Joe,  we  must  give  him  a  warm  reception.'* 

"  Yes,  we  will  sing  like  everything,  so  that  he 
can't  get  a  bad  word  in." 

So,  when  Tommy  Dodd  came,  they  struck  up 
"  Hold  the  Fort."  And  they  kept  on  singing  till  he  left 
his  work  and  came  closer  to  listen.  He  asked  them 
to  sing  it  over  and  over  again,  joining  heartily  in  it 
himself,  for  Tommy  was  very  fond  of  singing.  This 
was  followed  by  an  invitation  to  the  young  men's 
prayer-meeting,  where  the  Spirit  led  him  to  surrender 
to  Christ.  Afterward  he  was  found  at  the  church 
instead  of  the  saloon,  singing  the  sweet  songs  of  Zion. 

Dr.  R.  A.  Torrey,  on  his  return  from  England 
recently,  called  on  me  and  told  me  that  while  he  and 
Mr.  Alexander  were  holding  meetings  in  Belfast, 
one  of  the  most  enthusiastic  helpers  was  a  typical 
Irishman,  well-known  as  an  active  worker  all  over  the 
city.  "  He  was  constantly  bringing  drunkards  to  the 
front  and  dealing  with  them,"  said  Dr.  Torrey,  "  and 
holding  meetings  in  the  open  air  all  over  the  city.  The 
story  of  his  conversion  was  exceedingly  interesting. 
At  that  time  he  was  a  prisoner  in  a  cell  in  Belfast.  The 
window  of  his  cell  was  open.  Mr.  Sankey  was  singing 
'  Hold  the  Fort '  in  another  building.  The  words 
floated  across  through  the  open  window  into  his  cell 
and  went  home  to  his  heart.  There  in  his  cell  he  ac- 
cepted Christ  under  the  influence  of  this  hymn.  I 
think  he  never  saw  Mr.  Sankey  in  his  life." 


io6  Sankeys  Story 


Home  of  the  Soul 

Words  by  Mrs.  Ellen  H.  Gates  Music  by  Philip  Phillips 

"  I  will  sing  you  a  song  of  that  beautiful  land, 
The  far  away  home  of  the  soul." 

"  Now  I  saw  in  my  dream  that  these  two  men 
[Christian  and  Hopeful]  went  in  at  the  gate;  and  lo, 
as  they  entered,  they  were  transfigured ;  and  they  had 
raiment  put  on  them  that  shone  like  gold.  There  were 
also  those  that  met  them  with  harps  and  crowns  and 
gave  them  to  them;  the  harps  to  praise  withal,  and 
the  crowns  in  token  of  honor.  Then  I  heard  in  my 
dream  that  all  the  bells  in  the  city  rang  again  for  joy, 
and  that  it  was  said  unto  them :  '  Enter  ye  into  the  joy 
of  your  Lord! '  .  .  .  Now,  just  as  the  gates  were 
opened  to  let  in  the  men,  I  looked  in  after  them,  and 
behold,  the  city  shone  like  the  sun;  the  streets  also 
were  paved  w^ith  gold ;  and  in  them  walked  many  men, 
with  crowns  on  their  heads  and  palms  in  their  hands, 
and  golden  harps  to  sing  praises  withal.  .  .  .  After 
that,  they  shut  up  the  gates  which,  when  I  had  seen,  I 
wished  myself  among  them.'' — Bunyan's  "  Pilgrim's 
Progress." 

"The  above  extract,"  wrote  Philip  Phillips,  "I 
sent  to  Mrs.  Ellen  H.  Gates,  asking  her  to  write  a 
suitable  hymn.  When  the  verses  were  forwarded  to 
me,  in  1865,  I  seated  myself  in  my  home  with  my  little 
boy  on  my  knee,  and  w^th  Bunyan's  immortal  dream- 
book  in  my  hand,  and  began  to  read  the  closing  scenes 
where  Christian  and  Hopeful  entered  into  the  city, — 
wondering  at  Bunyan's  rare  genius,  and  like  the 
dreamer  of  old  wishing  myself  among  them.   At  this 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  107 


moment  of  inspiration  I  turned  to  my  organ,  with  pencil 
in  hand,  and  wrote  the  tune.  This  hymn  seems  to 
have  had  God's  special  blessing  upon  it  from  the  very 
beginning.  One  man  writes  me  that  he  has  led  in  the 
singing  of  it  at  a  hundred  and  twenty  funerals.  It 
was  sung  at  the  funeral  of  my  own  dear  boy,  who  had 
sat  on  my  knee  when  I  wrote  the  tune." 

And  I  sang  this  hymn  over  the  remains  of  my 
beloved  friend,  Philip  Phillips,  at  Fredonia,  New  York. 

How  Firm  a  Foundation 

Wordi  by  G.  Keith  Music  by  M.  Portogallo 

**How  firm  a  foundation,  ye  saints  of  the  Lord, 
Is  laid  for  your  faith  in  His  excellent  word/* 

"  Once  at  evening  devotion  in  the  old  Oratory 
of  Princeton  Seminary,''  Dr.  C.  S.  Robinson  relates, 
the  elder  Hodge,  then  venerable  with  years  and  piety, 
paused  as  he  read  this  hymn,  preparatory  to  the  sing- 
ing. In  the  depth  of  his  emotion  he  was  obliged  to 
close  his  delivery  of  the  final  lines  with  a  gesture  of 
pathetic  and  adoring  wonder  at  the  matchless  grace 
of  God  in  Christ,  and  his  hand  silently  beat  time  to  the 
rhythm  instead :  '  Til  never,  no,  never,  no,  never  for- 
sake ! " 

Giving  an  account  of  a  visit  to  General  Jackson 
at  the  Hermitage,  in  1843,  ^he  Rev.  James  Gallager 
says  in  the  Western  Sketch  Book "  The  old  hero 
was  then  very  frail  and  had  the  appearance  of  extreme 
old  age ;  but  he  was  reposing  with  calmness  and  confi- 
dence on  the  promise  and  covenant  of  God.    He  had 


io8  Sankey' s  Story 


now  been  a  member  of  the  church  for  several  years." 
During  the  conversation  which  took  place,  the  General 
turned  to  Mr.  Gallager,  and  remarked : 

"  There  is  a  beautiful  hymn  on  the  subject  of  the 
exceeding  great  and  precious  promise  of  God  to  His 
people.  It  was  the  favorite  hymn  of  my  dear  wife,  till 
the  day  of  her  death.  It  commences  in  this  w^ay :  '  How 
firm  a  foundation,  ye  saints  of  the  Lord.'  I  wish  you 
would  sing  it  now." 

So  the  little  company  sang  the  entire  hymn. 

I  am  Praying  for  You 

Words  by  S.  O'Maley  Cluff  Music  by  Ira  D.  Sankey 

"I  have  a  Saviour,  He's  pleading  in  glory; 
A  dear,  loving  Saviour,  tho'  earth  friends  be  few." 

On  our  first  visit  to  Ireland,  in  1874,  we  came 
across  these  words  in  a  printed  leaflet.  It  was  the  sec- 
ond hymn  to  which  I  wrote  music,  and  it  was  much 
used  in  our  meetings  in  London.  It  has  long  been  a 
favorite  prayer-meeting  hymn  in  many  churches. 

At  the  close  of  a  gospel  service  in  Evanston,  Illi- 
nois, the  minister  was  requested  to  visit  a  man  who 
was  not  likely  to  live  many  days,  and  who  was  a  spir- 
itualist. Though  pressed  by  other  engagements,  the 
minister  said,  I  will  take  time.''  He  called,  but 
thought  it  not  best  to  introduce  the  subject  of  religion 
because  of  the  patient's  known  hostility  to  evangelical 
views.  Seeing  a  little  organ  in  the  room,  the  minister 
asked  if  he  might  sing  a  song.  Consent  being  given, 
he  sang  "  I  have  a  Saviour,  He's  pleading  in  glory." 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  109 


The  sick  man  seemed  pleased,  and  asked  the  min- 
ister to  sing  it  again.  This  he  did,  and  then  gave  other 
songs.  Thus  he  sang  the  truths  which  he  had 
not  the  courage  to  mention  in  conversation.  The 
songs  evidently  accomplished  their  work ;  for  when  the 
minister  called  again  the  sick  man's  heart  had  been 
opened,  and  the  truth  had  been  savingly  received 
through  their  instrumentality. 

A  gospel  worker  of  Hunter,  New  York,  tells  of 
this  experience  in  connection  with  the  hymn :  While 
1  was  holding  revival  meetings  at  Hensonville,  New 
York,  a  man  and  his  wife  were  converted  through  the 
hymn  '  I  Am  Praying  for  You.'  The  song  went  directly 
to  the  heart  of  the  wife.  All  the  way  to  her  home  the 
first  line  of  the  hymn,  '  I  have  a  Saviour,  He's  plead- 
ing in  glory,'  kept  ringing  in  her  ears,  and  next  morn- 
ing as  she  awoke  she  heard  my  voice  singing,  '  I  have 
a  Saviour.'  That  night  she  came  to  Jesus.  Her  hus- 
band followed  immediately  after  her.  They  had  sent 
out  invitations  for  a  large  dancing  party  at  that  time, 
which  no  doubt  would  have  injured  the  meetings  very 
much  had  it  taken  place  ;  but  the  dance  was  turned  into 
a  prayer-meeting.  I  shall  never  forget  the  night  she 
stood  up  in  a  crowded  church,  and  said,  '  Oh,  Brother 

L  ,  your  singing  "  I  have  a  Saviour  "  brought  us  to 

Jesus.' " 

A  young  man  who  came  from  Sweden  writes :  "  '  I 
Am  Praying  for  You  '  was  the  first  Moody  and  Sankey 
hymn  I  ever  heard.  It  was  on  a  cold  winter  night  up 
in  the  land  of  the  midnight  sun,  more  than  a  quarter 


I  lo  Sankey  s  Story 


of  a  century  ago.  Two  evangelists  had  come  to  the 
neighborhood,  but  found  it  difficult  to  get  a  place  in 
which  to  hold  their  meetings.  At  last  a  poor  woman 
opened  for  them  her  log  house,  consisting  of  two 
rooms.  From  house  to  house  the  meetings  were  an- 
nounced. I  was  a  small  boy,  and  out  of  curiosity  I 
attended  the  first  meeting.  About  twenty  people  were 
present,  seated  on  chairs  borrowed  from  the  neigh- 
bors. At  one  end  of  the  low,  dark  room  the  evangel- 
ists were  seated,  by  a  small  table  on  which  two 
home-made  candles  were  burning.  After  one  of  the 
evangelists  had  led  in  prayer,  he  said  to  the  other, 
'  Sing  one  of  Sankey 's  hymns.'  Upon  which  he  sang 
this  now  well-known  hymn,  '  I  Am  Praying  for  You,' 
accompanying  himself  on  a  guitar.  Since  then  I  have 
heard  these  sweet  hymns  sung  in  many  European 
countries,  and  in  the  small  meeting-houses  and  primi- 
tive homes  of  the  settlers  on  the  Western  plains,  as 
well  as  by  choirs  of  hundreds  and  congregations  of 
thousands  in  the  larger  cities  of  this  broad  land." 

I  Gave  My  Life  for  Thee 

Words  by  Frances  R.  Havergal  Music  by  P.  P.  Bliss 

"I  gave  My  life  for  thee, 
My  precious  blood  I  shed." 

Fifteen  years  after  this  hymn  was  written  Miss 
Havergal  said  about  it :  "  Yes,  '  I  gave  My  life  for 
thee,'  is  mine,  and  perhaps  it  will  interest  you  to  hear 
how  nearly  it  went  into  the  fire  instead  of  nearly  all 
over  the  world.  It  was,  I  think,  the  very  first  thing 
1  wrote  which  could  be  called  a  hymn — written  when 
I  was  a  young  girl,  in  1859.    I  did  not  half  realize 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns 


1 1 1 


what  I  was  writing  about.  I  was  following  very  far 
off,  always  doubting  and  fearing.  I  think  I  had  come 
to  Jesus  with  a  trembling  faith,  but  it  was  a  coming  *  in 
the  press  '  and  behind,  never  seeing  his  face  or  feeling 
sure  that  he  loved  me.  I  scribbled  these  words  in 
a  few  minutes  on  the  back  of  a  circular,  and  then  read 
them  over  and  thought,  *  Well,  this  is  not  poetry,  any- 
how; I  won't  trouble  to  write  this  out.'  I  reached 
out  my  hand  to  put  it  in  the  fire,  when  a  sudden  im- 
pulse made  me  draw  it  back,  and  I  put  it,  crumpled 
and  singed,  in  my  pocket.  Soon  after  I  went  to  see 
a  dear  old  woman  in  the  almshouse.  She  began  talk- 
ing to  me,  as  she  always  did,  about  her  dear  Saviour, 
and  I  thought  I  would  see  if  she,  a  simple  old  woman, 
would  care  for  these  verses,  which  I  felt  sure  nobody 
else  would  even  care  to  read.  I  read  them  to  her,  and 
she  was  so  delighted  Avith  them  that  I  copied  them  out 
and  kept  them.  And  now  the  Master  has  sent  them 
out  in  all  directions,  and  I  have  heard  of  their  being  a 
real  blessing  to  many.'' 

Miss  Havergal  showed  the  hymn  some  time  after- 
ward to  her  father,  and  he  wrote  a  melody  especially 
for  it.  But  it  is  the  tune  which  Mr.  Bliss  composed 
for  it  that  became  popular  in  America. 

I  Hear  Thy  Welcome  Voice 

Words  by  Lewis  Hartsough  Music  by  Lewis  Hartsough 

''I  hear  Thy  welcome  voice  i 
That  calls  me,  Lord,  to  Thee."  ' 

The  words  and  music  of  this  beautilul  hymn  were 
first  published  in  a  monthly  entitled  "  Guide  to  Holi- 
ness," a  copy  of  which  was  sent  to  me  in  England  in 


112  Sankeys  Story 


1873.  I  immediately  adopted  it  and  had  it  published 
in  Sacred  Songs  and  Solos."  It  proved  to  be  one 
of  the  most  helpful  of  the  revival  hymns,  and  was  often 
used  as  an  invitation  hymn  in  England  and  America. 

Shortly  after  this  hymn  was  written,  while  it  was 
being  sung  by  a  large  congregation  in  Washington,  a 
passing  merchant  stopped  to  Usten.  It  had  been 
twenty  years  since  he  had  crossed  the  threshold  of  a 
church.  The  congregation  were  on  their  feet  and 
sinners  were  passing  to  the  altar  for  prayer.  Stanza 
after  stanza  of  this  hymn  was  sung,  with  increasing 
interest.  The  Holy  Spirit  so  pressed  the  Lord's  claims 
that  the  merchant  yielded  and  joined  the  penitents. 
He  was  converted  and  this  hymn  became  his  favorite. 
He  sang  it  in  his  home,  on  the  street,  and  in  his  store. 
It  seemed  a  special  inspiration  to  him.  One  morning, 
about  two  weeks  after  his  conversion,  as  he  started 
for  his  store,  his  wife,  having  accompanied  him  to  the 
door  to  say  good-bye,  heard  him  joyfully  begin  to 
sing  "  I  am  coming,  Lord,  to  Thee,''  as  he  reached  the 
street.  She  listened  a  little  while,  looking  after  him, 
and  then  turned  to  her  room.  A  few  moments  later 
the  door-bell  rang.  She  answered  it  in  person,  only 
to  find  that  men  were  bearing  home  her  husband's  dead 
body.  He  had  slipped  on  the  icy  pavement  and  was 
instantly  killed.  The  memory  of  those  last  words  of 
song  that  fell  upon  her  ears,  as  he  triumphantly  sang 
I  am  coming,  Lord,  to  Thee,"  was  to  her  a  lasting 
comfort. 

While  holding  meetings  at  Eastbourn,"  says  an 
English  evangelist,    a  man  by  the  name  of  David  was 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns 


113 


converted.  His  very  wicked  work-mate,  whose  name 
was  Stephen,  noticed  the  change  in  him  the  next  day, 
and  asked  David  what  had  caused  it.  David  boldly 
confessed  that  he  had  found  the  Saviour  at  the  Mis- 
sion, and  expressed  a  wish  that  Stephen  would  accom- 
pany him  there  next  Sunday — to  which  he  finally 
agreed.  As  we  began  the  service  on  Sunday  evening, 
I  gave  out  the  hymn,  '  I  hear  Thy  welcome  Voice.' 
During  the  singing  I  noticed  that  the  Spirit  had 
touched  a  man  who  was  sitting  on  the  first  form  under 
the  platform.  After  a  short  comment  on  the  verses,  I 
said :  *  We  will  have  the  prayer-meeting  at  once,'  and 
in  another  minute  I  was  down  by  the  side  of  Stephen — 
for  it  was  he — and  with  my  arm  around  his  neck  I 
said  to  him  :  '  The  Lord  is  speaking  to  you,  is  he  not  ?  ' 

"  After  the  meeting  Stephen  testified  that  he  had 
been  able  to  knock  down  two  men  in  a  fight,  but  that 
he  never  was  so  knocked  down  in  all  his  life  as  when 
he  felt  my  arm  around  his  neck.  Stephen  became  a 
brave  and  true  follower  of  Christ.  He  brought  his 
wife  to  church,  and  though  at  first  she  had  ridiculed 
her  husband,  she,  too,  soon  gave  heed  to  the  '  welcome 
voice.'  " 

I'll  Go  Where  Thou  Would'st  I  Should  Go 

Words  by  Mary  Brown  Music  by  Carrie  E.  Rounsefell 

"  It  may  not  be  on  the  mountain's  height. 
Or  over  the  stormy  sea." 

This   well-known   missionary   and  consecration 
'  hymn  was  adopted  by  a  class  of  over  a  hundred  mis- 
sionary nurses  at  the  Battle  Creek  (Michigan)  Sani- 
tarium as  their  class  hymn.    Every  Sunday  afternoon 


114  Sankeys  Story 

they  would  gather  for  a  social  meeting  and  always 
sing,  I'll  go  where  Thou  would'st  I  should  go,  dear 
Lord,"  which  they  called  their  hymn.''  In  this  class 
were  students  from  nearly  every  State  of  the  Union, 
from  Australia,  South  Africa,  South  America,  Bul- 
garia, Armenia,  and  nearly  all  the  European  countries. 
At  the  close  of  the  course  they  agreed  that  after  they 
had  parted  and  gone  to  their  different  fields,  they 
would  sing  this  hymn  every  Sunday  afternoon  as  they 
had  done  during  their  happy  class-days. 

I  Love  to  Tell  the  Story 

Words  by  Miss  Kate  Hankey  Music  by  W.  G.  Fischer 

love  to  tell  the  story 
Of  unseen  things  above/* 

Last  winter  a  young  man  appeared  here  from 
British  Columbia,"  says  a  letter  from  Surrey,  England. 

He  was  in  the  Royal  Marines.  He  was  a  total  ab- 
stainer and  was  doing  all  he  could  to  promote  temper- 
ance among  his  comrades.  While  here  he  went  to 
church,  and  the  curate,  who  had  a  conversation  with 
him,  was  much  pleased  with  his  manly  behavior  and 
resolute  desire  to  do  right.  He  wore  a  medal  and  had 
good-conduct  marks  on  his  clothes.  This  man  was  the 
little  boy  whom  Miss  T.  had  picked  up  in  Battersea 
Park  many  years  before,  and  who  had  learned  of  the 
gospel  of  salvation  entirely  by  listening  to  the  maid- 
servants singing  sacred  songs  while  scrubbing  door- 
steps and  cleaning  windows.  The  hymn  that,  as  a 
child,  he  seemed  to  make  entirely  his  own  was,  '  I  love 
to  tell  the  story,'  though  he  knew  several  others  when 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  115 


he  was  picked  up  in  the  park.  As  he  had  never  been 
to  church  or  chapel,  the  hymns  were  the  only  channel 
through  which  divine  truth  had  been  conveyed  to  him, 
and  by  which  the  first  seed  was  sown  in  his  heart  that 
made  him  a  man  of  character  and  usefulness." 

I  Need  Thee  Every  Hour 

Words  by  Annie  S.  Hawks  Music  by  Robert  Lowry 

"I  need  Thee  every  hour. 
Most  gracious  Lord/* 

A  chaplain  of  the  State  prison  at  Concord,  Massa- 
chusetts, tells  how  an  ex-prisoner,  who  had  never  had 
a  home  in  his  Hfe,  prepared  one,  humble  but  tasteful, 
and  then  asked  the  chaplain  to  help  him  dedicate  it. 
Together  they  entered  the  home — the  man's  wife  had 
not  yet  come — and  the  service  began.  "  Mr.  B.,  with 
evident  brokenness  of  spirit,  for  he  was  naturally  a 
proud  man  and  not  unacquainted  with  larger  surround- 
ings, could  not  refrain  from  some  criticism  upon  his 
poor  things ;  but  his  heart  was  so  full  that  his  embar- 
rassment was  only  temporary,  and  he  immediately  went 
on  with  a  firm  purpose.  He  started  the  hymn,  '  I  need 
Thee  every  hour '  for  the  first  number  of  the  service." 

"  I  need  Thee  every  hour  "  was  first  sung  at  a 
Sunday-school  convention  in  Cincinnati,  in  November 
of  1872.  Two  years  later  I  sang  it  for  the  first  time 
at  Mr.  Moody's  meetings  in  the  East  End  of  London. 
After  that  we  often  used  it  in  our  prayer-meetings. 

The  singing  of  this  hymn  at  a  meeting  in  Chicago, 
at  the  time  of  the  World's  Fair,  led  to  the  writing  of 


ii6  Sankey  s  Story 


the  now  famous  song,  "  Moment  by  Moment,"  by 
D.  W.  Whittle. 

In  the  Secret  of  His  Presence 

Words  by  Ellen  Lakshmi  Goreh  Music  by  George  C.  Stebbins 

"In  the  secret  of  His  presence  how  my  soul  delights  to  hide! 
Oh,  how  precious  are  the  lessons  which  I  learn  at  Jesus' 
side!" 

The  author  of  the  words  of  this  beautiful  hymn 
was  a  high-caste  native  of  India.  After  her  conver- 
sion to  Christianity,  it  is  said,  she  spent  some  years  in 
the  home  of  an  English  clergyman,  and  wrote  the  poem 
"  In  the  Secret  of  His  Presence  while  there.  It  made 
its  appearance  in  a  book  of  poems  of  which  she  was 
the  author.  In  1883  the  attention  of  Mr.  Stebbins  was 
called  to  it,  and  he  wrote  the  music  at  that  time.  The 
hymn  w^as  first  sung  by  him  as  an  offertory  in  one  of 
the  churches  in  Brooklyn,  New  York.  It  was  often 
repeated  as  an  offertory,  and  on  occasions  was  sung  in 
evangelistic  services.  But  it  had  its  larger  introduc- 
tion to  the  public  during  the  All- Winter  Mission  con- 
ducted by  ]\Ir.  Moody  and  myself  in  London  in  the 
winter  of  1883-84,  when  I  sang  it  frequently,  as  did 
Mr.  Stebbins,  who  spent  several  months  assisting  in  the 
mission.  It  w^as  also  often  sung  by  Miss  Beaucham, 
daughter  of  the  late  Lady  Beaucham  and  since  the  wife 
of  Colonel  Drury-Lowe,  one  of  the  heroes  of  the  Indian 
Mutiny,  and  uncle  of  Lord  Curzon,  Viceroy  and  Gov- 
ernor-General of  India.  The  hymn  at  once  came  into 
general  favor,  and  the  deeply  spiritual  tone  of  the 
words  brought  blessing  to  many.  The  song  was  after- 
wards published  in    Gospel  Hymns/'  and  in  "  Sacred 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns 


117 


Songs  and  Solos/'  Very  soon  it  found  its  way  into 
all  parts  of  the  world.  Dr.  Hudson  Taylor,  head  of 
the  great  China  Inland  Mission,  stated  at  Northfield 
that  it  was  the  favorite  hymn  of  his  missionaries. 

The  winter  of  1890-91  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Stebbins 
spent  in  India.  While  visiting  the  city  of  Allahabad, 
the  home  of  Miss  Goreh,  Mr.  Stebbins  sought  her  out 
and  made  her  acquaintance.  He  found  her  engaged  in 
mission  work  among  the  women  of  India,  a  modest, 
devoted  Christian,  held  in  high  esteem  by  missionaries 
of  all  denominations  and  by  all  who  knew  her.  Thus 
the  two  singers  whose  names  had  become  associated 
in  Christian  song  met  each  other, — one  from  the  far 
East,  and  one  from  beyond  far  Western  seas — both 
inspired  by  the  same  Lord,  in  the  secret  of  whose  pres- 
ence they  long  since  came  to  abide. 

It  Is  Finished 

Words  by  the  Rev.  James  Proctor  Music  by  Ira  D.  Sankcy 

''Nothing,  either  great  or  small — 
Nothing,  sinner,  no/' 

The  Scotch  people  are  especially  fond  of  this 
hymn.  The  author  prefaced  it  with  these  lines  : Since 
I  first  discovered  Jesus  to  be  the  end  of  the  law  for 
righteousness  to  every  one  that  believeth,  I  have  more 
than  once  met  with  a  poor  sinner  seeking  peace  at  the 
foot  of  Sinai  instead  of  Calvary,  and  I  have  heard  him 
again  and  again  in  bitter  disappointment  and  fear 
groaning  out,  *  What  must  I  do  ? '  I  have  said  to 
him, '  Do,  do  ?  What  can  you  do  ?  What  do  you  need 
to  do?'" 


1 1 8  Sankeys  Story 


It  is  Well  with  My  Soul 

Words  by  H.  G.  Spafford  Music  by  P.  P.  Bliss 

"When  peace,  like  a  river,  attendeth  my  way, 
When  sorrows  Hke  sea-billows  roll." 

When  Mr.  Moody  and  I  were  holding  meetings  in 
Edinburgh,  in  1874,  we  heard  the  sad  news  of  the  loss 
of  the  French  steamer, Ville  de  Havre,''  on  her  return 
from  America  to  France,  with  a  large  number  of  mem- 
bers of  the  Ecumenical  Council,  whose  meetings  had 
been  held  in  Philadelphia.  On  board  the  steamer  was 
a  Mrs.  Spafford,  with  her  four  children.  In  mid-ocean 
a  collision  took  place  with  a  large  sailing  vessel,  caus- 
ing the  steamer  to  sink  in  half  an  hour.  Nearly  all 
on  board  were  lost.  Mrs.  Spafford  got  her  children 
out  of  their  berths  and  up  on  deck.  On  being  told 
that  the  vessel  would  soon  sink,  she  knelt  down  with 
her  children  in  prayer,  asking  God  that  they  might  be 
saved  if  possible ;  or  be  made  willing  to  die,  if  that  was 
his  will.  In  a  few  minutes  the  vessel  sank  to  the  bot- 
tom of  the  sea,  and  the  children  were  lost.  One  of 
the  sailors  of  the  vessel,  named  Lockurn — whom  I 
afterward  met  in  Scotland — while  rowing  over  the  spot 
where  the  vessel  disappeared,  discovered  Mrs.  Spaf- 
ford floating  in  the  water.  Ten  days  later  she  was 
landed  at  Cardiff,  Wales.  From  there  she  cabled  to 
her  husband,  a  lawyer  in  Chicago,  the  message,  Saved 
alone."  Mr.  Spafford,  who  was  a  Christian,  had  the 
message  framed  and  hung  up  in  his  office.  He  started 
immediately  for  England  to  bring  his  wife  to  Chicago. 
Mr.  Moody  left  his  meetings  in  Edinburgh  and  went 
to  Liverpool  to  try  to  comfort  the  bereaved  parents, 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  1 1 9 


and  was  greatly  pleased  to  find  that  they  were  able  to 
say :  "  It  is  well ;  the  will  of  God  be  done/' 

In  1876,  when  we  returned  to  Chicago  to  work, 
I  was  entertained  at  the  home  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Spaf- 
ford  for  a  number  of  weeks.  During  that  time  Mr. 
Spafford  wrote  the  hymn,  It  is  well  with  my  soul/' 
in  commemoration  of  the  death  of  his  children.  P.  P. 
Bliss  composed  the  music  and  sang  it  for  the  first  time 
at  a  meeting  in  Farwell  Hall.  The  comforting  fact  in 
connection  with  this  incident  was  that  in  one  of  our 
small  meetings  in  North  Chicago,  a  short  time  prior 
to  their  sailing  for  Europe,  the  children  had  been 
converted. 

While  still  Hving  in  Chicago  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Spaf- 
ford became  much  interested  in  the  Second  Coming 
of  Christ.  So  zealous  did  Mr.  Spafford  become  that 
he  decided  to  go  to  Jerusalem  with  his  wife  and  the 
one  remaining  daughter,  and  there  await  the  coming 
of  the  Lord.  Mr.  Spafford  died  there  not  long  after- 
ward. Mrs.  Spafford  is  the  head  of  a  society  whose 
headquarters  are  in  a  building  outside  of  Jerusalem, 
where  a  large  number  of  people  live,  having  all  things 
in  common.  When  I  visited  Jerusalem  some  years 
ago  I  met  Mrs.  Spafford  on  the  Street  of  David.  The 
next  day  I  received  a  call  from  Miss  Spafford,  who  is 
very  popular  amonsr  the  natives  and  has  become  the 
teacher  for  a  large  body  of  children,  instructing  them 
in  English  literature  and  in  American  ways. 

This  hymn  was  heard  by  a  gentleman  who  had 
suffered  great  financial  reverses  in  the  panic  of  1899, 
and  who  was  in  deepest  despondency.  When  he  learned 
the  story  of  the  hymn  he  exclaimed :  "  If  Spafford 


I20  Sankeys  Story 


could  write  such  a  beautiful  resignation  hymn  I  will 
never  complain  again." 

I've  Found  a  Friend 

Words  by  J.  G.  Small  Music  by  George  C.  Stebbins 

**IVe  found  a  Friend,  oh,  such  a  Friend! 
He  loved  me  ere  I  knew  Him." 

On  one  occasion  when  Mr.  Moorehouse  and  I 
were  holding  meetings  at  Scarboro,  in  the  north  of 
England,  the  services  were  attended  by  a  number  of 
Quaker  ladies,  among  them  a  cousin  of  John  Bright, 
the  great  English  statesman.  Wishing  to  have  this 
hymn  sung  at  one  of  the  meetings,  this  lady  wrote  out 
the  following  request :  "  Will  Mr.  Sankey  please  repeat 
the  hymn,  *  I've  found  a  Friend,'  in  his  usual  way?" 
In  thus  wording  her  note  she  avoided  asking  me  to 
sing,  which  is  against  the  custom  of  the  Society  of 
Friends. 

We  were  holding  a  cottage  prayer-meeting  in  a 
lodging  house,"  says  a  minister  of  Nottinghamshire, 
England,  "  when  a  young  man  lodging  there  came  in  to 
the  meeting  in  a  fun-seeking  manner.  We  sang, 
prayed  and  read  a  chapter  out  of  God's  Word,  and 
then  the  young  man  asked  if  we  would  sing  a  hymn 
for  him.  He  chose  *  I've  found  a  Friend,  oh,  such  a 
Friend.'  When  we  had  sung  one  verse  he  began  to 
shed  tears,  and  I  am  glad  to  say  that  he  gave  his  heart 
to  God  through  the  singing  of  that  beautiful  hymn. 
The  next  morning  he  left  the  place,  but  before  leaving 
he  wrote  me  a  letter,  of  which  I  give  these  extracts : '  I 
asked  you  to  sing  that  hymn  because  it  was  a  favorite 
of  my  darling  sister,  who  is  waiting  for  me  at  the  gates 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  121 


in  heaven.  I  have  now  promised  to  meet  her  there. 
By  God's  help,  if  we  do  not  meet  again  on  earth,  I 
promise  to  meet  you  in  heaven.  You  will  always  think 
of  me  when  you  sing,  "  I've  Found  a  Friend."  Show 
this  letter  to  my  two  other  friends.'  " 

The  author  of  this  hymn,  the  Rev.  J.  G.  Small, 
who  was  born  in  Edinburgh  in  1817,  and  died  in  1888, 
wrote  many  hymns  and  poems  and  published  several 
hymn-books. 

Jesus,  I  Will  Trust  Thee 

Words  by  Mary  J,  Walker  Music  by  Ira  D.  Sankey 

*7esus,  I  will  trust  Thee, 
Trust  Thee  with  my  soul." 

Major  Whittle  gives  an  example  of  this  hymn's 
usefulness,  out  of  many  instances :  "  I  was  holding 
meetings  in  Belfast.  At  one  of  the  after-meetings  I 
noticed  a  man  remaining  behind  when  almost  all  the 
others  had  gone.  I  spoke  to  him  and  found  that  he 
was  a  merchant  in  the  city.  He  was  in  much  distress 
about  his  sins.  I  showed  him  Christ  the  Saviour,  who 
died  for  sinners,  and  tried  to  get  him  to  appropriate 
that  Saviour  to  himself.  I  saw  there  was  a  great 
struggle  going  on  in  his  soul,  the  powers  for  good  and 
evil  evidently  striving  for  the  mastery.  We  went  down 
on  our  knees  and  prayed.  Then  after  a  while  he 
straightened  himself  up  and  gave  vent  to  his  feelings 
in  this  hymn,  for  he  was  a  capital  singer : 

7esus,  I  will  trust  Thee, 

Trust  Thee  with  my  soul; 
Guilty,  lost,  and  helpless, 
Thou  canst  make  me  whole.' 


122  Sankey's  Story 


It  was  a  song  of  victory  over  Satan,  and  a  song  of 
praise  to  Christ,  through  whom  he  had  conquered. 
From  that  hour  he  has  done  splendid  work  for  Christ 
among  the  worst  of  men/' 

Jesus,  Lover  of  My  Soul 

Words  by  Charles  Wesley  Music  by  Simeon  B.  Marsh 

''Jesus,  Lover  of  my  soul, 
Let  me  to  Thy  bosom  fly." 

Several  incidents  have  been  narrated  as  having 
suggested  to  Charles  Wesley  this  hymn.  One,  that 
a  narrow  escape  from  death  in  a  storm  on  the  Atlantic 
inspired  him  to  portray  the  thoughts  of  a  Christian 
in  deadly  peril.  Another,  that  as  he  stood  at  an  open 
wandow  on  a  summer  day  a  little  bird,  pursued  by  a 
hawk,  sought  refuge  in  his  bosom,  giving  him  the  idea 
of  pointing  out  the  soul's  one  sure  place  of  refuge  in 
time  of  need. 

Mrs.  Mary  Hoover,  of  Bellefonte,  Pennsylvania, 
whose  grandmother  was  the  heroine  of  the  story,  has 
related  to  her  pastor  this  family  tradition :  Charles 
Wesley  was  preaching  in  the  fields  of  the  parish  of 
Killyleagh,  County  Down,  Ireland,  when  he  was  at- 
tacked by  men  who  did  not  approve  of  his  doctrines. 
He  sought  refuge  in  a  house  located  on  what  was 
known  as  the  Island  Band  Farm.  The  farmer's  wife, 
Jane  Lowrie  Moore,  told  him  to  hide  in  the  milkhouse, 
down  in  the  garden.  Soon  the  mob  came  and  de- 
manded the  fugitive.  She  tried  to  quiet  them  by  offer- 
ing them  refreshments.     Going  down  to  the  milk- 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  123 


house,  she  directed  Mr.  Wesley  to  get  through  the  rear 
window  and  hide  under  the  hedge,  by  which  ran  a  Httle 
brook.  In  that  hiding-place,  with  the  cries  of  his  pur- 
suers all  about  him,  he  wrote  this  immortal  hymn. 
Descendants  of  Mrs.  Moore  still  live  in  the  house, 
which  is  much  the  same  as  it  was  in  Wesley's  time. 


The  great  evangelist  and  president  of  Oberlin  Col- 
lege, Charles  G.  Finney,  was  walking  about  his 
grounds  shortly  before  his  death.  In  the  church  where 
he  had  preached  for  forty  years  the  evening  service  was 
going  on.  Presently  he  heard  this  hymn  floating  to 
him  from  the  distance.  He  joined  with  the  invisible 
congregation  in  singing  the  hymn  to  the  end.  Before 
the  next  morning  he  had  joined  the  choir  about  the 
throne. 

An   ungodly   stranger,''  said   Mr.  Spurgeon, 
stepping  into  one  of  our  services  at  Exeter  Hall,  was 
brought  to  Christ  by  the  singing  of  '  Jesus,  Lover  of 
my  soul.'    '  Does  Jesus  love  me  ?  '  said  he ;  *  then  why 
should  I  live  in  enmity  with  him  ? '  " 

Tom  was  a  drummer  boy  in  the  army,  and  the 
men  called  him  the  young  deacon  "  because  of  his 
sobriety  and  religious  example.  One  day  the  chap- 
lain found  him  sitting  under  a  tree  alone,  with  tears 
in  his  eyes. 

Well,  Tom,  my  boy,  what  is  it  ?  " 


124  Sankey  s  Story 


I  had  a  dream  last  night,  which  I  can't  get  out 
of  my  mind." 

"What  was  it?" 

My  mother  was  a  widow,  poor  but  good.  She 
never  was  Hke  herself  after  my  sister  Mary  died.  A 
year  ago  she  died,  too ;  and  I,  having  no  home  and  no 
mother,  came  to  the  war.  But  last  night  I  dreamed 
the  war  was  over  and  I  went  back  home,  and  just  be- 
fore I  got  to  the  house  my  sister  and  mother  came  out 
to  meet  me.  I  didn't  seem  to  remember  that  they 
were  dead.  How  glad  they  were  !  Oh,  sir,  it  was  just 
as  real  as  you  are  real  now\" 

Thank  God,  Tom,"  said  the  chaplain,  that  you 
have  such  a  mother,  not  really  dead,  but  in  heaven." 

The  boy  wiped  his  eyes  and  was  comforted.  The 
next  day  Tom's  drum  was  heard  all  day  long  in  a  ter- 
rible battle.  At  night  it  was  known  that  the  young 
deacon  "  was  lying  wounded  on  the  field.  In  the 
evening,  when  all  was  still,  they  heard  a  voice  singing 
away  off  on  the  field,  and  they  felt  sure  that  it  was 
Tom's  voice.  Softly  the  words  of  "  Jesus,  Lover  of  my 
soul  "  floated  on  the  wings  of  the  night.  After  the  sec- 
ond verse  the  voice  grew  weak  and  stopped.  In  the 
morning  the  soldiers  found  Tom  sitting  on  the  ground, 
leaning  against  a  stump,  dead. 

A  vessel  had  gone  on  the  rocks  in  the  English 
Channel.  The  crew,  with  their  captain,  took  to  the 
boats  and  were  lost.  They  might  have  been  safe,  had 
they  remained  on  the  vessel,  as  a  huge  wave  carried 
her  high  up  on  the  rocks.  On  the  table  in  the  captain's 
cabin  was  found  a  hymn-book,  opened  at  this  hymn, 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  125 


and  in  it  lay  the  pencil  which  had  marked  the  favorite 
words  of  the  captain.  While  the  hurricane  was  howl- 
ing outside  and  the  vessel  sinking,  he  had  drawn  his 
pencil  beneath  these  words  of  cheer: 

"Jesus,  Lover  of  my  soul, 
Let  me  to  Thy  bosom  fly. 
While  the  nearer  waters  roll. 
While  the  tempest  still  is  high." 

I  would  rather  have  written  that  hymn  of  Wes- 
ley's, '  Jesus,  Lover  of  my  soul,'  "  Henry  Ward  Beecher 
once  said,  than  to  have  the  fame  of  all  the  kings  that 
ever  sat  on  earth.  It  is  more  glorious ;  it  has  more 
power  in  it.  I  would  rather  be  the  author  of  that 
hymn  than  to  hold  the  wealth  of  the  richest  man  in 
New  York.  It  will  go  on  singing  until  the  trump 
brings  forth  the  angel  band ;  and  then  I  think  it  will 
mount  up  on  some  lip  to  the  very  presence  of  God." 

Dr.  George  Duffield — himself  the  author  of  so 
fine  a  hymn  as  "  Stand  up,  stand  up  for  Jesus  " — in  his 
old  age  paid  this  tribute  out  of  a  lifelong  experience : 
'  One  of  the  most  blessed  days  of  my  life  was  when  I 
found,  after  my  harp  had  long  hung  on  the  willows, 
that  I  could  sing  again ;  that  a  new  song  was  put  in  my 
mouth ;  and  when,  ere  ever  I  was  aware,  I  was  singing, 
*  Jesus,  Lover  of  my  soul/  If  there  is  anything  in 
Christian  experience  of  joy  and  sorrow,  of  affliction 
and  prosperity,  of  life  and  death — that  hymn  is  the 
hymn  of  the  ages !  " 

This  was  the  last  hymn  we  sang  as  the  body  of 
Mr.  Moody  was  being  lowered  into  the  grave. 


126  Sankey  s  Story 


Jesus  Loves  Even  Me 

Words  by  P.  P.  Bliss  Music  by  P.  P.  Bliss 

''I  am  SO  glad  that  our  Father  in  heaven 
Tells  of  His  love  in  the  Book  He  has  given.*' 

I  think  it  was  in  June,  1870,  that  '  Jesus  Loves 
Even  Me  '  was  written,"  writes  Major  Whittle.  "  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Bliss  were  at  that  time  members  of  my  fam- 
ily in  Chicago.  One  morning  Mrs.  Bliss  came  down 
to  breakfast  and  said,  as  she  entered  the  room :  ^  Last 
night  Mr.  Bliss  had  a  tune  given  to  him  that  I  think 
is  going  to  live  and  be  one  of  the  most  useful  that  he 
has  written.  I  have  been  singing  it  all  the  morning, 
and  I  cannot  get  it  out  of  my  mind.'  She  then  sang 
the  notes  over  to  us.  The  idea  of  Bliss,  in  writing  the 
hymn,  was  to  bring  out  the  truth  that  the  peace  and 
comfort  of  a  Christian  are  not  founded  so  much  upon 
his  love  to  Christ  as  upon  Christ's  love  to  him,  and  that 
to  occupy  the  mind  with  Christ's  love  would  produce 
love  and  consecration — as  taught  in  Romans  5:5,'  The 
love  of  God  [to  us]  is  shed  abroad  in  our  hearts  by 
the  Holy  Ghost,  which  is  given  unto  us.'  How  much 
God  has  used  this  little  song  to  lead  sinners  and  doubt- 
ing Christians  to  look  away  to  Jesus,  eternity  alone 
can  tell." 

Mr.  Bliss  said  that  this  song  was  suggested  to 
him  by  hearing  the  chorus  of  the  hymn,  ''Oh,  how  I 
love  Jesus,"  repeated  very  frequently  in  a  meeting 
which  he  attended.  After  joining  in  the  chorus  a 
number  of  times  the  thought  came  to  him,  Have  I 
not  been  singing  enough  about  my  poor  love  for  Jesus, 
and  shall  I  not  rather  sing  of  his  great  love  for  me?  " 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  127 


Under  the  impulse  of  this  thought  he  went  home  and 
composed  this,  one  of  his  most  popular  children's 
hymns. 

"  A  young  woman  in  England,"  says  Major  Whit- 
tle, went  to  a  meeting  where  she  heard  Mr.  Sankey 
sing,  *  I  am  so  glad  that  Jesus  loves  me/  While  the 
hymn  was  being  sung  she  began  to  feel  for  the  first 
time  in  her  life  that  she  was  a  sinner.  All  her  sins 
came  up  in  an  array  before  her ;  and  so  numerous  and 
aggravated  did  they  appear,  that  she  imagined  she 
could  never  be  saved.  She  said  in  her  heart,  '  Jesus 
cannot  love  me.  He  could  not  love  such  a  sinner  as  I.' 
She  went  home  in  a  state  of  extreme  mental  anguish, 
and  did  not  sleep  that  night.  Every  opportunity  to 
obtain  more  light  was  eagerly  seized.  She  took  her 
place  in  the  inquiry-room ;  and  there  she  found,  to  her 
astonishment  and  joy  that  Jesus  could,  did,  does  love 
sinners.  She  saw  in  God's  open  word  that  it  was  for 
sinners  that  he  died,  and  for  none  others.  When  she 
realized  this  she  began  to  sing  '  I  am  so  glad  that  Jesus 
loves  me, — Jesus  loves  even  me.' " 

A  minister  was  holding  meetings  in  Indiana.  A 
few  miles  distant  lived  an  old  Englishman  who  had 
not  been  inside  a  church  for  seven  years.  He  was 
persuaded  to  take  his  children  to  the  meeting  one  Sun- 
day night.  He  declared  afterward  that  nothing  of 
what  was  said  or  done  interested  him  until  the  close 
of  the  service,  when  '  Jesus  loves  me  '  was  sung.  On 
his  way  home,  and  until  he  went  to  sleep,  he  could 
think  of  nothing  but  the  hymn.    When  he  awoke  in 


128 


San  key  s  Story 


the  morning  the  first  thing  he  thought  of  was,  '  Jesus 
loves  me.'  He  could  not  get  it  out  of  his  mind,  and 
when  he  was  out  in  the  field  afterward  he  could  think 
of  nothing  else.  Was  it  possible  that  God  could  love 
a  sinner  like  him  ?  His  eyes  were  so  blinded  with 
tears  that  he  could  not  see  to  go  on  with  his  work.  Out 
on  that  lonely  field  the  old  man  found  his  Saviour.  The 
next  evening  he  visited  the  meeting,  and  as  he  told 
his  experience  tears  were  in  the  eyes  of  all  the  people. 

During  the  winter  after  the  great  fire  in  Chicago, 
when  the  place  was  being  built  up  with  small  frame 
houses  for  the  poor,  a  mother  sent  for  me  one  day  to 
visit  her  little  sick  girl,  who  was  one  of  our  Sunday- 
school  scholars.  I  remembered  her  quite  well,  and 
was  glad  to  go.  Finding  that  she  was  beyond  hope  of 
recovery,  I  asked  how  it  was  with  her. 

It  is  all  well  with  me,"  she  replied  :    but  I  wish 
you  would  speak  to  father  and  mother." 

It  was  plain  that  she  loved  Jesus,  and  I  asked  her 
when  she  became  a  Christian.  "  Don't  you  remember 
last  Thursday  in  the  Tabernacle."  she  said.  '*  when  we 
had  the  children's  meeting,  and  you  sang  '  Jesus  loves 
me,'  and  don't  you  remember  how  you  told  us  that  if 
we  would  give  our  hearts  to  him  he  would  love  us? 
It  was  that  day  that  I  gave  mvself  to  Jesus.  And  now 
I  am  going  to  be  with  him.  for  the  doctors  say  that  I 
will  die  to-day." 

The  testimony  of  that  little  girl,  in  that  neglected 
quarter  of  the  city,  did  more  to  encourage  me  to  sing 
on  than  anything  else,  for  she  was  my  first  convert. 

This  song  was  much  used  in  the  meetings  con- 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  129 


ducted  by  Mr.  Moody  in  Great  Britain  in  1873-4,  and 
was  given  out  to  the  congregation  as  an  opening  hymn 
more  often  than  any  other.  As  written  by  Mr.  Bliss  it 
consisted  of  three  verses  and  a  chorus.  Some  one  un- 
known to  the  writer  has  written  three  additional  verses 
beginning,  '  Jesus  loves  me,  and  I  know  I  love  Him." 

Jesus  Loves  Me 

Words  by  Anna  B.  Warner  Music  by  William  B.  Bradbury 

"Jesus  loves  me!  this  I  know. 
For  the  Bible  tells  me  so." 

The  Rev.  Dr.  Jacob  Chamberlain,  who  for  many 
years  has  been  working  among  the  Hindus,  writes  as 
follows  regarding  this  hymn,  long  one  of  the  most 
popular  children's  songs  in  the  world :  "  Many  jears 
ago  I  translated  into  Telugu  the  children's  hymn, 
*  Jesus  loves  me  '  and  taught  it  to  the  children  of  our 
day-school.  Scarcely  a  week  later,  as  I  was  going 
through  the  narrow  streets  of  the  native  town  on  horse- 
back, I  heard  singing  that  sounded  natural,  down  a 
side  street.  I  stopped  to  listen,  cautiously  drawing 
up  to  the  corner,  where  unobserved  I  could  look  down 
the  street  and  see  and  hear.  And  there  was  a  little 
heathen  boy,  with  heathen  men  and  women  standing 
around  him,  singing  away  at  the  top  of  his  voice : 

'Jesus  loves  me!  this  I  know, 

For  the  Bible  tells  me  so    .    .  . 
Yes,  Jesus  loves  me! 
The  Bible  tells  me  so!' 

As  he  completed  the  verse  some  one  asked  the  question : 
'  Sonny,  where  did  you  learn  that  song  ? '    '  Over  at 


I30 


Sankey  s  Story 


the  ^Missionary  School/  was  the  answer.  '  Who  is 
that  Jesus,  and  what  is  the  Bible  ? '  '  Oh !  the  Bible 
is  the  book  from  God,  they  say,  to  teach  us  how  to  get 
to  heaven,  and  Jesus  is  the  name  of  the  divine  Re- 
deemer that  came  into  the  world  to  save  us  from  our 
sins ;  that  is  what  the  missionaries  say/  '  Well,  the 
song  is  a  nice  one.  Come,  sing  us  some  more.' 
And  so  the  little  boy  went  on — a  heathen  himself,  and 
singing  to  the  heathen — about  Jesus  and  his  love. 
*  That  is  preaching  the  Gospel  by  proxy,'  I  said  to  my- 
self, as  I  turned  my  pony  and  rode  away,  well  satisfied 
to  leave  my  little  proxy  to  tell  his  interested  audience 
all  he  himself  knew,  and  sing  to  them  over  and  over 
that  sweet  song  of  salvation.'' 

Jesus  of  Nazareth  Passeth  By 

Words  by  Emma  Campbell  Music  by  T.  E.  Perkins 

"What  means  this  eager,  anxious  throng, 
Which  moves  with  busy  haste  along?** 

An  officer  of  the  English  army  sends  me  the  fol- 
lowing incident :  A  soldier  was  stationed  at  Edin- 
burgh Castle,  and  one  evening  left  his  post  on  a  pass 
until  midnight.  He  had  a  week's  pay  in  one  pocket 
and  the  washing  money  earned  by  his  wife  in  the  other, 
and  was  on  his  way  to  the  public  house  to  have  a  night 
in  gambling.  His  eye  caught  the  poster  outside  the 
Tolbooth  Church,  announcing  your  meetings.  The 
officer  liked  the  singing,  and  went  in  just  to  hear  one 
song.  As  he  entered  Mr.  Moody  was  preaching  on 
'  The  Blood.'  That  had  no  interest  for  him.  After 
the  address  you  sang,  '  Jesus  of  Nazareth  passeth  by.' 
He  listened  with  deep  interest  to  the  hymn.    *  Too 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  131 


late,  too  late/  was  God's  arrow  to  his  soul.  An  officer 
of  his  regiment  and  I  went  into  the  inquiry-room,  and 
among  a  great  crowd  we  saw  this  comrade's  red  coat. 
He  was  in  great  distress.  We  spoke  to  him,  holding 
to  John  3:16. 

"  That  night  the  man  went  home  instead  of  to  the 
public  house,  and  his  wife  was  astonished  to  see  him 
so  early,  and  sober.  He  laid  down  all  the  money  on 
the  table,  which  astonished  her  still  more.  Then  he 
went  to  bed,  but  was  in  too  great  distress  to  be  able  to 
sleep.  The  words  '  Too  late,  too  late '  rang  in  his 
ears.  About  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  John  3 :  16 
gleamed  into  his  soul.  He  leaped  from  the  bed, 
pleaded  that  grand  promise,  and  Jesus  received  him. 
This  was  told  the  following  morning  by  himself  at  the 
Castle.  He  held  to  his  faith,  and  when  the  regiment 
left  he  was  known  throughout  the  camp  as  a  man  of 
God.  The  glorious  Gospel  with  him  began  in  song, 
and  goes  on  in  song." 

A  similar  experience  is  related  by  another  con- 
vert :  "  It  was  on  the  28th  of  December  that  I,  like 
(I  dare  say)  a  great  many  others,  went  up  to  the  As- 
sembly Hall,  out  of  sheer  curiosity,  an  unconverted 
sinner.  I  heard  Mr.  Moody  preach,  and  I  am  sorry 
to  say  I  was  very  little  affected  by  it.  After  Mr. 
Moody  had  finished  his  discourse,  Mr.  Sankey  sang 
*  Jesus  of  Nazareth  passeth  by.'  I  was  deeply  moved 
by  it,  and  when  he  came  to  the  lines, 

*Too  late!  too  late!  will  be  the  cry; 
Jesus  of  Nazareth  has  passed  by;' 

oh !  I  thought  to  myself,  will  that  not  be  my  cry  ?  Will 


132  Sankeys  Story 


God  not  then  say  to  me,  '  Depart  from  me,  I  never 
knew  you  ?  '  I  felt  in  great  anguish  of  soul,  but  I  went 
home  without  remaining  to  the  inquiry-meeting.  All 
the  way  home  those  two  lines  still  rang  in  my  ears. 
It  was  a  long  time  before  I  could  go  to  sleep.  My 
brain  seemed  all  afire ;  my  past  sins  came  up  one  by 
one  before  my  mind.  At  last  I  fell  asleep,  but  only 
to  wake  with  a  start  under  the  impression  that  a  bright 
light  had  suddenly  been  extinguished  in  my  room,  and 
had  left  me  in  utter  darkness.  Immediately  those 
lines  sounded  in  my  ears.  I  was  able  to  be  the  in- 
terpreter of  my  own  dream.  The  bright  light  was 
Jesus,  and  the  darkness  was  that  of  my  own  soul;  for 
he  had  passed  by  and  I  had  not  been  saved.  I  had 
very  little  sleep  that  night.    On  the  Monday  night  I 

came  to  the  inquiry-meeting  and  Mr.  spoke  to  me, 

showing  me  plainly  that  I  had  nothing  to  do — Christ 
had  done  it  all.  I  was  only  to  believe  in  him.  And 
before  I  left  the  hall  that  evening,  by  the  blessing  of 
God  I  was  able  to  accept  Christ  as  my  Saviour.  Upon 
going  home  I  opened  a  Bible,  and  the  first  words  that 
met  my  eye  were  John  3 :  16:  '  God  so  loved  the  world 
that  he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son,  that  whosoever 
believeth  in  him  should  not  perish,  but  have  eternal 
life.'  I  knew  the  whosoever  included  myself,  and 
I  rejoiced  in  it.  I  am  doing  so  now;  and,  by  the  help 
of  God,  I  hope  to  do  so  till  I  find  myself  in  my 
Saviour's  arms." 

At  one  of  our  early  meetings  in  Edinburgh  an 
old  gentleman,  more  than  seventy  years  of  age,  threw 
himself  down  on  his  knees  and,  sobbing  like  a  child, 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  133 


said :  "  I  was  utterly  careless  about  my  soul  until  last 
night,  but  I  have  been  so  unhappy  since  I  could  not 
sleep.  I  seemed  to  hear  ringing  in  my  ears,  'Jesus 
of  Nazareth  passeth  by,'  and  I  feel  that  if  I  am  not 
saved  now,  I  never  shall  be.'' 

A  lady  traveling  in  the  East  tells  of  a  visit  she 
made  to  the  Girls'  Orphanage  in  Nazareth,  an  institu- 
tion established  many  years  ago  in  the  town  where 
Jesus  spent  so  many  years  of  his  early  life.  The  Or- 
phanage was  established  by  a  society  of  Christians  in 
London.  Here  the  lady  heard  the  children  sweetly 
singing :  Jesus  of  Nazareth  passeth  by,"  and  she  says 
that  the  children  were  sure  the  words  were  all  meant 
for  them. 

A  young  naval  officer  attended  one  of  our  meet- 
ings in  London.  On  being  asked  how  he  liked  the 
address  he  repHed :  I  did  not  hear  it,  but  I  did  like 
that  song,  '  What  means  this  eager,  anxious  throng? ' 
He  was  invited  to  attend  again,  and  he  responded: 
Well,  I  enjoyed  that  solo,  and  I  will  go  to  hear  the 
singing."  He  did  so ;  the  same  song  was  sung  again, 
and  so  moved  him  that  he  remained  for  the  inquiry- 
meeting.  There  he  was  saved  through  the  mercy  of 
God.  A  week  later,  in  an  accident,  he  was  instantly 
killed,  and  so  suddenly  passed  into  the  company  of  the 
redeemed. 

The  hymn  was  written  during  a  religious  revival 
in  Newark,  New  Jersey,  in  i863-'64,  where  hundreds 
were  converted.     One  afternoon  Mr.  R.  G.  Pardee 


134  Sankeys  Story 


made  a  very  earnest  address  from  Luke  i8:  37 — *'They 
told  him  that  Jesus  of  Nazareth  passeth  by."  Miss 
Emma  Campbell  was  present,  heard  the  address  and 
saw  how  the  community  was  stirred,  and  soon  after- 
ward she  wrote  these  stanzas.  The  Rev.  E.  P.  Ham- 
mond, w^ho  had  conducted  the  revival  meetings,  tried 
the  verses  to  the  tune  of  '  Sweet  hour  of  prayer/ 

Later  Mr.  T.  E.  Perkins  wrote  the  tune  to  which 
this  hymn  is  now  sung.  It  was  one  of  the  first  favor- 
ites at  our  meetings  in  England.  The  printed  records 
of  the  meetings  of  these  days  bear  testimony  that  hun- 
dreds confessed  to  have  accepted  Christ  during  the 
singing  of  this  hymn  as  a  solo.  Rev.  Andrew  A.  Bonar 
— brother  of  Dr.  Horatius  Bonar,  the  great  hymn- 
writer — speaking  of  this  hymn  in  his  Life  of  James 
Scott,''  says, Some  of  us  in  Hstening  to  these  two  mes- 
sengers, the  one  singing,  the  other  preaching,  used  to 
think  of  what  is  told  in  2  Kings  3:15.  Elisha,  before 
beginning  to  prophesy,  called  for  a  minstrel,  and  when 
the  camp  of  soldiers  had  been  calmed  and  melted  by 
harp  and  song,  the  hand  of  the  Lord  came  upon  the 
speaker.  Had  you  been  in  Edinburgh  during  the  four 
months  when  these  brethren  were  there  in  1873,  you 
would  have  seen  multitudes  of  all  ages  and  stations 
hastening  to  the  place  of  meeting,  at  whatever  hour, 
any  day  of  the  week.  The  scene  was  exactly  that  de- 
scribed in  the  hymn,  so  often  sung,  and  so  much 
blessed, — 

'What  means  this  eager,  anxious  throng, 
Which  moves  with  busy  haste  along. 
These  wondrous  gatherings  day  by  day? 
What  means  this  strange  commotion,  pray?  '  " 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  135 


Jesus,  Saviour,  Pilot  Me  ! 

Words  by  the  Rev.  Edward  Hopper  Music  by  J.  E.  Gould 

"Jesus,  Saviour,  pilot  me. 
Over  life's  tempestuous  sea." 

Major  D.  W.  Whittle  told  me  the  following  inci- 
dent in  connection  with  this  hymn :  "  I  went  with  Gen- 
eral O.  O.  Howard  to  hold  meetings  for  the  soldiers 
at  Tampa,  Florida,  and  one  day  while  going  through 
the  camp  I  found  a  young  man  dying  of  fever.  I  knelt 
by  his  side  and  asked  him  if  he  was  a  Christian.  He 
replied  that  he  was  not,  but  said  that  his  father  and 
mother  were  Christians ;  and  he  asked  me  to  pray  for 
him.  I  did  so,  but  no  deep  impression  was  made  upon 
his  heart.  I  went  away  with  a  sorrowing  heart  and 
promised  to  return  another  day.  Two  days  later  I 
visited  him  again  and,  praying  with  him,  the  Lord  put 
into  my  mind  to  sing,  '  Jesus,  Saviour,  pilot  me.'  The 
dying  soldier  said :  '  Oh,  that  sounds  good ;  it  puts  me 
in  mind  of  my  beloved  sister  in  Michigan,  who  used 
to  sing  this  hymn  for  me  before  I  entered  the  army.' 
He  wanted  me  to  repeat  it  over  and  over  again  for  him, 
and  finally  he  asked :  '  Will  Jesus  be  my  pilot  into  the 
haven  of  rest?  '  I  told  the  young  man  that  Jesus  would. 
*  Then,'  he  said,  '  I  will  trust  him  with  all  my  heart.' 
The  next  day  I  called  to  see  him  again,  but  his  com- 
rade said :  *  He  passed  away  during  the  night'  " 

The  author  of  this  hymn  was  born  in  New  York 
in  1818,  and  for  many  years  was  the  pastor  of  the 
Church  of  Sea  and  Land,  in  that  city.  The  hymn  was 
first  published  in  1871,  in  "  The  Sailors'  Magazine." 


136  Sankey's  Story 


Just  as  I  Am 

Words  by  Charlotte  Elliott  Music  by  William  B.  Bradbury 

"Just  as  I  am,  without  one  plea. 
But  that  Thy  blood  was  shed  for  me." 

Miss  Charlotte  Elliott  was  visiting  some  friends 
in  the  West  End  of  London,  and  there  met  the  eminent 
minister,  Cesar  Malan.  While  seated  at  supper,  the 
minister  said  he  hoped  that  she  was  a  Christian.  She 
took  offense  at  this,  and  replied  that  she  would  rather 
not  discuss  that  question.  Dr.  Malan  said  that  he  was 
sorry  if  he  had  offended  her,  that  he  always  liked  to 
speak  a  word  for  his  Master,  and  that  he  hoped  that 
the  young  lady  would  some  day  become  a  worker  for 
Christ.  When  they  met  again  at  the  home  of  a  mutual 
friend,  three  weeks  later,  Miss  Elliott  told  the  minister 
that  ever  since  he  had  spoken  to  her  she  had  been  try- 
ing to  find  her  Saviour,  and  that  she  now  wished  him 
to  tell  her  how  to  come  to  Christ.  "  Just  come  to 
him  as  you  are,''  Dr.  Malan  said.  This  she  did,  and 
went  away  rejoicing.  Shortly  afterward  she  wrote 
this  hymn,  "  Just  as  I  am,  without  otie  plea."  It  was 
first  published  in    The  Invalid's  Hymn  Book,"  in  1836. 

In  all  my  preaching,"  said  her  brother,  the  Rev. 
H.  V.  Elliott,  "  I  have  not  done  so  much  good  as  my 
sister  has  been  permitted  to  accomplish  by  writing  her 
one  hymn,  '  Just  as  I  am.' " 

A  little  street  waif  in  New  York  City  came  to  a 
missionary  with  a  torn  and  dirty  piece  of  paper,  on 
which  this  hymn  was  printed. 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns 


137 


"  Please,  sir,"  he  said,  "  father  sent  me  to  get  a 
clean  copy  like  that." 

The  missionary  learned  that  the  child's  sister  had 
loved  to  sing  it,  and  that  this  copy  had  been  found  in 
her  pocket  after  her  death.  The  father  wanted  to 
obtain  a  clean  copy  of  the  verses  in  order  to  frame  them. 

During  a  service  of  song  in  a  Christian  church, 
John  B.  Gough  was  asked  by  a  man  in  the  pew  with 
him  what  was  to  be  sung,  as  the  announcement  had 
not  been  heard.  The  questioner  was  most  repulsive 
in  appearance,  because  of  a  nervous  disease  that  dis- 
figured his  face  and  form.  When  the  singing  began, 
Gough  was  driven  almost  to  frenzy  by  the  harsh  and 
discordant  tones  of  the  singer  by  his  side.  But  when 
they  came  to  Just  as  I  am,  poor,  wretched,  blind,"  the 
wretched  creature  lifted  his  sightless  eyes  to  heaven 
and  sang  with  his  whole  soul.  The  great  orator,  in 
his  impassioned  and  inimitable  way,  said : 

I  have  heard  the  finest  strains  of  orchestra,  choir, 
and  soloist  this  world  can  produce,  but  I  never  heard 
music  until  I  heard  that  blind  man  sing,  *  O,  Lamb  of 
God,  I  come,  I  come.' " 

Lead,  Kindly  Light 

Words  by  John  H.  Newman  Music  by  John  B.  Dykes 

"^Lead,  kindly  Light,  amid  the  encircling  gloom, 
Lead  Thou  me  on." 

Dr.  Newman  wrote  this  hymn  in  1833,  just  before 
he  entered  upon  the  tractarian  movement  in  the  Estab- 
lished Church.  He  had  been  at  Rome,  and  stopping  at 


138  Sankeys  Story 


Sicily  on  his  homeward  way,  he  there  became  danger- 
ously ill  of  fever.  Upon  recovery,  he  took  passage  on 
an  orange  boat  for  Marseilles,  being  under  the  impres- 
sion that  he  must  return  to  England  and  begin  a  move- 
ment for  the  reformation  of  the  Church  in  accord  with 
his  peculiar  views.  The  sailing  vessel  was  becalmed 
for  a  week  in  the  Straits  of  Bonifacio,  between  Corsica 
and  Sardinia.  It  was  on  this  vessel  and  under  such 
circumstances,  his  body  sweltering  in  the  heat  and  his 
mind  racked  with  conflicting  views  as  to  his  duty  in 
the  contemplated  mission  to  the  Established  Church, 
that  he  penned  the  lines  of  this  now  cherished  hymn. 
Its  original  title  was  The  Pillar  of  the  Cloud,"  the 
hymn  appearing  first  in    The  British  Magazine.'* 

Let  the  Lower  Lights  be  Burning 

Words  by  P.  P.  Bliss  Music  by  P.  P.  Bliss 

"  Brightly  beams  our  Father's  mercy 
From  His  hghthouse  evermore." 

The  words  of  this  hymn  were  suggested  to  Mr. 
Bliss  on  hearing  Mr.  Moody  tell  the  following  incident : 
"  On  a  dark,  stormy  night,  when  the  waves  rolled  like 
mountains  and  not  a  star  was  to  be  seen,  a  boat,  rock- 
ing and  plunging,  neared  the  Cleveland  harbor.  *  Are 
you  sure  this  is  Cleveland  ? '  asked  the  captain,  seeing 
only  one  light  from  the  lighthouse.  *  Quite  sure,  sir,' 
replied  the  pilot.  'Where  are  the  low^er  lights?' 
'  Gone  out,  sir.'  '  Can  you  make  the  harbor  ?  '  *  We 
must,  or  perish,  sir ! '  With  a  strong  hand  and  a  brave 
heart  the  old  pilot  turned  the  wheel.  But  alas,  in  the 
darkness  he  missed  the  channel,  and  with  a  crash  upon 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  139 


the  rocks  the  boat  was  shivered,  and  many  a  life  lost 
in  a  watery  grave.  Brethren,  the  Master  will  take 
care  of  the  great  lighthouse ;  let  us  keep  the  lower 
lights  burning ! 

Let  the  Saviour  in 

Words  by  J.  B.  Atchinson  Music  by  E.  O.  Excell 

^'There's  a  Stranger  at  the  door; 
Let  Him  inT* 

In  Great  Britain  this  favorite  hymn  brought  bless- 
ing to  a  retired  colonel  of  the  English  army,  at  one 
of  Mr.  Moody's  meetings  on  the  banks  of  the  Thames. 
The  colonel  had  become  anxious  about  his  spiritual 
condition,  and  decided  to  go  to  London  to  attend  our 
meetings  there.  At  the  conclusion  of  one  of  the  even- 
ing services,  as  he  was  about  to  leave  the  great  build- 
ing, his  attention  was  arrested  by  a  sweet  voice  singing, 
Let  the  Saviour  in."  On  taking  the  train  at  Padding- 
ton  station  for  Bournemouth,  the  song  remained  in  his 
heart  and  the  wheels  of  the  train  seemed  to  repeat  in 
his  ears  the  refrain,    Let  him  in !  let  the  Saviour  in !  " 

He  went  again  to  London  and  sought  out  the 
singer  whose  voice  had  so  impressed  him.  She  was 
a  lady  of  high  rank,  and  in  the  course  of  a  few  months 
became  the  wife  of  the  gallant  colonel.  A  year  later 
they  moved  to  Florida,  where  I  had  the  pleasure  of  vis- 
iting them  in  their  home.  On  my  invitation,  they  ac- 
companied me  to  a  near-by  town  where  I  was  holding 
meetings.  At  the  conclusion  of  my  lecture  the  lady 
sang  this  hymn  again,  and  so  sweetly  that  it  moved  the 
audience  to  tears. 


I40 


Sankey's  Story 


Missionary  Hymn 


Words  by  R.  Heber 


Music  by  Dr.  Lowell  Mason 


'From  Greenland's  icy  mountains, 
From  India's  coral  strand." 


The  author  of  this  hymn  was  Dean  of  Hodnet  and 
afterward  Bishop  of  Calcutta.  He  was  visiting  his 
father-in-law,  the  Vicar  of  Wrexham,  they  being  to- 
gether in  the  Vicar's  study  on  the  Saturday  before 
Whitsunday,  1819.  Each  was  preparing  a  missionary 
sermon  to  be  delivered  the  following  day,  when  the 
Vicar  spoke  up : 

"  Heber,  write  something  appropriate  to  sing  at 
our  services  to-morrow." 

Immediately  retiring  to  the  other  end  of  the  room, 
Heber  sat  down  by  the  window  and  composed  the 
four  stanzas  which  now  constitute  this  hymn.  He 
wanted  to  add  a  fifth,  but  the  Vicar  said :  "  Nay ;  you 
will  only  destroy  the  beauty  and  symmetry  of  the  com- 
position; let  it  stand." 

The  song  was  sung  for  the  first  time  on  that  Whit- 
sunday. Bishop  Heber  laid  down  his  life,  seven  years 
later,  on  the  mission  field  of  India.  Of  the  many  hymns 
which  he  wrote,  nearly  all  are  in  common  use. 


"Dying  with  Jesus,  by  death  reckoned  mine; 
Living  with  Jesus  a  new  life  divine." 

While  I  was  attending  the  World's  Fair,  in  Chi- 
cago, Henry  Varley,  a  lay  preacher  from  London,  said 
to  Major  Whittle :  "  I  do  not  like  the  hymn  '  I  need 


Moment  by  Moment 


Words  by  D.  W.  Whittle 


Music  by  May  Whittle  Moody 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  141 


Thee  every  hour '  very  well,  because  I  need  Him  every 
moment  of  the  day."  Soon  after  Major  Whittle  wrote 
this  sweet  hymn,  having  the  chorus : 

**Moment  by  moment  Fm  kept  in  His  love; 
Moment  by  moment  Fve  life  from  above; 
Looking  to  Jesus  till  glory  doth  shine; 
Moment  by  moment,  O  Lord,  I  am  Thine." 

Mr.  Whittle  brought  the  hymn  to  me  in  manu- 
script a  little  later,  saying  that  he  would  give  me  the 
copyright  of  both  the  words  and  music  if  I  would  print 
for  him  five  hundred  copies  on  fine  paper,  for  distrib- 
uting among  his  friends.  His  daughter.  May  Whittle, 
who  later  became  the  wife  of  Will  R.  Moody,  composed 
the  music.  I  did  as  Mr.  Whittle  wished;  and  I  sent 
the  hymn  to  England,  where  it  was  copyrighted  on  the 
same  day  as  at  Washington. 

In  England  the  hymn  became  very  popular.  Fall- 
ing into  the  hands  of  the  well-known  Rev.  Andrew 
Murray,  of  South  Africa,  then  visiting  London,  he 
adopted  it  as  his  favorite  hymn.  A  year  later  Mr. 
Murray  visited  Northfield,  and  while  holding  a  meet- 
ing for  men  in  the  church  he  remarked :  If  Sankey 
only  knew  a  hymn  which  I  found  in  London,  and  would 
sing  it,  he  would  find  that  it  embraces  my  entire  creed." 

I  was  very  anxious  to  know  what  hymn  it  was, 
and  when  he  had  recited  it  I  said  to  him :  "  Doctor,  that 
hymn  was  written  within  five  hundred  yards  of  where 
we  are  standing." 

For  years  Dr.  Murray  had  his  wife  sing  this  hymn 
in  nearly  all  his  meetings.  It  also  became  a  great 
favorite  in  South  Africa  during  the  war. 


142  Smikey' s  Story 


More  to  Follow 

Words  by  P.  P.  Bliss  Music  by  P.  P.  Bliss 

''Have  you  on  the  Lord  believed? 
Still  there's  more  to  follow." 

The  suggestion  for  this  hymn  came  to  Mr.  Bliss 
through  hearing  Mr.  Moody  tell  the  story  of  a  vast 
fortune  which  v^as  left  in  the  hands  of  a  minister  for 
one  of  his  poor  parishioners.  Fearing  that  it  might 
be  squandered  if  suddenly  bestowed  upon  the  bene- 
ficiary, the  wise  minister  sent  him  a  little  at  the  time, 
with  a  note,  saying : This  is  thine ;  use  it  wisely ;  there 
is  more  to  follow." 


Must  I  Go,  and  Empty-Handed 

Words  by  C.  C.  Luther  Music  by  George  C.  Stebbins 

*'Must  I  go,  and  empty-handed? 
Thus  my  dear  Redeemer  meet?^' 

During  a  series  of  evangelistic  meetings  the  Rev. 
A.  G.  Upham  referred  in  his  sermon  to  a  young  man 
who,  dying  after  only  a  month  of  Christian  service,  said 
to  a  friend,  No,  I  am  not  afraid ;  Jesus  saves  me  now. 
But  oh  !  must  I  go,  and  empty-handed  ?  The  incident 
made  a  strong  impression  upon  the  Rev.  C.  C.  Luther — 
for  whom  Mr.  Upham  was  preaching — and  in  a  few 
minutes  the  words  of  this  hymn  had  arranged  them- 
selves in  Mr.  Luther's  mind.  A  few  days  later  he 
handed  them  to  Mr.  Stebbins,  who  composed  the  beau- 
tiful tune  to  which  they  are  sung. 

About  fifteen  years  ago  a  man  who  was  living  a 
reckless,  godless  life,  went  to  a  Sunday  morning  service 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  143 


in  a  mission  hall  in  Essex,  England.  This  hymn  was 
used  in  the  service,  and  as  the  third  verse  was  rendered, 

"Oh,  the  years  of  sinning  wasted, 
Could  I  but  recall  them  now, 
I  would  give  them  to  my  Saviour, 
To  His  will  rd  gladly  bow," 

the  man  was  so  forcibly  impressed  that  he  could  not 
take  part  in  the  singing.  He  went  home  miserable, 
and  was  unable  to  eat  any  dinner.  In  the  afternoon 
he  went  to  a  Bible-class  for  workingmen,  conducted  at 
the  other  end  of  the  village.  As  he  entered  the  same 
hymn  was  being  sung  that  had  made  him  so  miserable 
in  the  morning,  ''Must  I  go,  and  empty-handed?'' 
The  man  was  so  moved  by  the  words  of  the  hymn, 
and  so  impressed  by  the  coincidence  of  its  being  sung 
at  both  places  where  he  had  attended,  that  it  resulted  in 
his  conversion.  He  lived  a  consistent  life  thereafter, 
showing  a  real  change  of  heart  and  a  strong  desire  to 
no  longer  waste  his  years  in  sinning. 

My  Ain  Countrie 

Words  by  Mary  Lee  Demarest     Har.  by  H.  P.  M.    Music  by  Mrs.  lone  T.  Hanna 

'*I  am  far  frae  my  hame,  an*  Tm  weary  aften-whiles, 
For  the  longed-for  hame-bringin',  an  my  Faither^s  welcome 
smiles.*' 

Many  years  ago  John  Macduflf  and  his  young 
bride  left  Scotland  on  a  sailing  vessel  for  America, 
there  to  seek  their  fortune.  After  tarrying  a  few 
weeks  in  New  York  they  went  West,  where  they  were 
successful  in  accumulating  a  good  competence.  By 


144  Sankeys  Story 


and  by  the  wife's  health  began  to  fail.  The  anxious 
husband  said  that  he  feared  she  was  homesick. 

John,"  she  replied,  I  am  wearying  for  my  ain 
countrie ;  will  ye  not  taik  me  to  the  sea,  that  I  may  see 
the  ships  sailing  to  the  homeland  once  more  ?  " 

Her  husband's  heart  was  moved  with  compassion. 
In  a  few  weeks  he  sold  their  Western  home  and  took 
his  wife  East  to  a  pleasant  little  cottage  by  the  sea, 
whose  further  shore  broke  on  the  rocks  that  line  the 
coast  of  Scotland.  She  would  often  sit  and  gaze  wist- 
fully at  the  ships  sailing  from  the  bay,  one  after  an- 
other disappearing  below  the  horizon  on  their  way  to 
her  ain  countrie.  Although  she  uttered  no  complaint, 
it  was  evident  that  she  was  silently  pining  away.  John 
was  afraid  that  she  would  die  in  a  foreign  land;  and 
as  an  effort  to  save  her  he  sold  his  New  England  home, 
and  took  her  back  across  the  ocean.  She  was  speedily 
recovered  by  the  keen  mountain  air,  the  sight  of  purple 
heather,  nodding  bluebells,  and  hedge-rows  white  with 
fragrant  hawthorn  blossoms  in  bonnie  Scotland,  her 
own  dear  native  land.  To  her  it  was  home.  And 
there  is  no  sweeter  word  in  any  language  than  home ! 

A  few  years  prior  to  this  time,  in  1838,  Mary  Lee 
was  born  at  Croton  Falls,  New  York.  At  an  early 
age  she  lost  her  mother  and  was  left  in  charge  of  a 
Scotch  nurse,  from  whom  she  learned  something  of 
the  Scottish  dialect.  And  her  grandfather,  a  native 
of  Scotland,  had  often  sung  little  Mary  to  sleep  with 
Scottish  lullabies.  As  a  young  woman  she  was  re- 
fined and  highly  educated,  and  she  exhibited  unusual 
literary  talent.  Most  of  all  she  was  esteemed  for  her 
noble  Christian  character,  manifested  in  daily  life.  At 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  145 


the  age  of  twenty-three,  Mary  Lee  wrote  this  immortal 
poem  after  hearing  the  story  of  John  Macduff  and 
his  wife,  and  pubHshed  it  first  in  "  The  New  York  Ob- 
server/' Later  it  appeared  in  a  volume  of  her  poems. 
After  her  marriage  to  Mr.  Demarest  they  resided  in 
Pasadena,  California,  where  she  died  in  1887.  While 
visiting  that  town  a  number  of  years  later,  I  went  to  the 
cemetery  to  see  if  I  could  find  the  grave  of  the  beloved 
hymn-writer,  but  was  unable  to  do  so.  Afterward  I 
learned  that  her  body  was  brought  East  and  buried  in 
a  small  town  not  far  from  Albany,  New  York. 

This  hymn  was  one  of  my  favorite  solos,  and  was 
much  loved  by  Mr.  Moody. 

My  Country,  'Tis  of  Thee 

Words  by  S.  F.  Smith,  D.  D.  Music  by  Henry  Carey 

"My  country,  'tis   of  thee. 
Sweet  land  of  liberty." 

The  w^ords  of  this  popular  hymn,  now  known  as 
the  national  hymn  of  America,  were  written  in  1832. 
Dr.  Smith  says  : I  found  the  tune  in  a  German  music- 
book,  brought  to  this  country  by  the  late  William  C. 
Woodbridge,  and  put  into  my  hands  by  Lowell  Mason, 
because  I  could  read  German  books  and  he  could  not." 
The  real  origin  of  the  tune  is  much  disputed,  but  the 
credit  is  usually  given  to  Henry  Carey.  The  hymn 
was  first  sung  at  a  children's  Fourth  of  July  celebra- 
tion, in  the  Park  Street  Church,  Boston.  Dr.  Samuel 
Francis  Smith  was  born  in  Boston,  October  21,  1808. 
He  died  in  the  same  city,  November  16,  1895,  the 
'*  New  York  and  New  England  "  depot,  while  on  his 
way  to  fulfill  an  engagement  to  preach  at  Readville. 


146  Sankey's  Story 


While  traveling  in  Egypt  I  met  the  author's  son, 
who  is  a  missionary  in  that  country,  and  said  to  him 
that  if  I  ever  got  home  I  would  sing  his  father's  song 
with  new  interest ;  for  I  was  now  more  than  ever  con- 
vinced that  my  beloved  America,  the  land  of  liberty, 
was  the  dearest  of  all  lands  to  me. 

Dr.  Smith  visited  the  Board  of  Trade  in  Chicago 
in  May  of  1887.  While  sitting  in  the  gallery  he  was 
pointed  out  to  some  of  the  members.  Soon  he  became 
the  center  of  considerable  notice.  All  at  once  the  trad- 
ing on  the  floor  ceased,  and  from  the  wheat-pit  came 
the  familiar  words,  "  My  country,  'tis  of  thee.''  After 
two  stanzas  had  been  sung.  Dr.  Smith  arose  and  bowed. 
A  rousing  cheer  was  given  by  the  men  on  the  floor, 
to  which  Dr.  Smith  was  now  escorted  by  the  secretary 
of  the  Board.  The  members  flocked  around  Dr.  Smith 
and  grasped  his  hand.  Then  they  opened  a  passage 
through  the  crowd  and  led  him  to  the  wheat-pit,  where 
they  took  off  their  hats  and  sang  the  rest  of  the  hymn. 

My  Faith  Looks  up  to  Thee 

Words  by  Ray  Palmer  Music  by  Dr.  Lowell  Mason 

"My  faith  looks  up  to  Thee, 
Thou  Lamb  of  Calvary." 

"  I  gave  form  to  what  I  felt/'  says  Dr.  Palmer, 
by  writing,  with  little  effort,  the  stanzas.    I  recollect 
I  wrote  them  with  tender  emotion  and  ended  the  last 
line  with  tears.''  He  placed  the  manuscript  in  a  pocket- 
book,  and  carried  it  there  for  some  time.    One  day,  in 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  147 


Boston,  he  met  Dr.  Lowell  Mason,  who  inquired  if  Mr. 
Palmer  had  not  some  hymn  to  contribute  to  his  new 
book.  The  pocket-book  was  produced  and  the  hymn 
was  brought  to  light.  Dr.  Mason  took  a  copy  of  the 
song,  and  after  reaching  home  was  so  much  impressed 
with  it  that  he  wrote  for  it  the  famous  tune  "  Olivet," 
to  which  it  is  usually  sung.  A  short  time  after  he  met 
the  author  on  the  street  and  exclaimed : 

Mr.  Palmer,  you  may  live  many  years  and  do 
many  good  things,  but  I  think  you  will  be  best  known 
to  posterity  as  the  author  of  *  My  faith  looks  up  to 
Thee.' " 

The  hymn  was  published  in  1832,  but  did  not  at 
first  receive  much  notice.  The  Rev.  Andrew  Reed,  D.D., 
of  Scotland — who  wrote  Why  not  to-night  ?  "  for 
which  I  composed  the  music — found  a  copy  of  the 
hymn  in  a  religious  newspaper  while  traveling  in  this 
country,  took  it  home,  and  published  it  anonymously  in 
his  hymn-book. 

Dr.  Palmer  wrote  me  the  following  incident: 
"  During  the  Civil  War,  and  on  the  evening  preceding 
a  terrible  battle,  six  or  eight  Christian  young  men, 
who  were  looking  forward  to  deadly  strife,  met  to- 
gether in  one  of  their  tents  for  prayer.  After  spending 
some  time  in  committing  themselves  to  God  and  in 
Christian  conversation,  and  freely  speaking  together 
of  the  probability  that  they  would  not  all  survive  the 
morrow,  it  was  suggested  by  one  of  the  number  that 
they  should  draw  lip  a  paper  expressive  of  the  feelings 
with  which  they  went  to  stand  face  to  face  with  death, 
and  all  sign  it ;  and  that  this  should  be  left  as  a  testi- 


148 


Sankeys  Stojy 


mony  to  the  friends  of  such  of  them  as  might  fall. 
This  was  unanimously  agreed  to.  After  consultation, 
it  was  decided  that  a  copy  of  '  My  faith  looks  up  to 
Thee  '  should  be  written  out,  and  that  each  man  should 
subscribe  his  name  to  it,  so  that  father,  mother,  sister 
or  brother  might  know  in  what  spirit  they  laid  down 
their  lives.  Of  course,  they  did  not  all  meet  again. 
The  incident  was  related  afterward  by  one  who  sur- 
vived the  battle." 

My  Jesus,  I  Love  Thee 

Anonymous  Music  by  A.  J.  Gordon 

*'My  Jesus,  I  love  Thee,  I  know  Thou  art  mine, 
For  Thee  all  the  follies  of  sin  I  resign." 

A  Protestant  Episcopal  Bishop  of  Michigan  once 
related  the  following  incident  to  a  large  audience  in  one 
of  the  Rev.  E.  P.  Hammond's  meetings  in  St.  Louis : 
A  young,  talented  and  tender-hearted  actress  was 
passing  along  the  street  of  a  large  city.  Seeing  a  pale, 
sick  girl  lying  upon  a  couch  just  within  the  half-open 
door  of  a  beautiful  dwelling,  she  entered,  with  the 
thought  that  by  her  vivacity  and  pleasant  conversation 
she  might  cheer  the  young  invalid.  The  sick  girl  was 
a  devoted  Christian,  and  her  words,  her  patience,  her 
submission  and  heaven-lit  countenance,  so  demon- 
strated the  spirit  of  her  reHgion  that  the  actress  was 
led  to  give  some  earnest  thought  to  the  claims  of  Chris- 
tianity, and  was  thoroughly  converted,  and  became  a 
true  follower  of  Christ.  She  told  her  father,  the  leader 
of  the  theater  troupe,  of  her  conversion,  and  of  her 
desire  to  abandon  the  stage,  stating  that  she  could 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  149 


not  live  a  consistent  Christian  life  and  follow  the  life 
of  an  actress.  Her  father  was  astonished  beyond 
measure,  and  told  his  daughter  that  their  living  would 
be  lost  to  them  and  their  business  ruined,  if  she  per- 
sisted in  her  resolution.  Loving  her  father  dearly,  she 
was  shaken  somewhat  in  her  purpose,  and  partially 
consented  to  fill  the  published  engagement  to  be  met 
in  a  few  days.  She  was  the  star  of  the  troupe,  and  a 
general  favorite.  Every  preparation  was  made  for  the 
play  in  which  she  was  to  appear.  The  evening  came 
and  the  father  rejoiced  that  he  had  won  back  his  daugh- 
ter, and  that  their  living  was  not  to  be  lost.  The  hour 
arrived ;  a  large  audience  had  assembled.  The  curtain 
rose,  and  the  young  actress  stepped  forward  firmly 
amid  the  applause  of  the  multitude.  But  an  unwonted 
light  beamed  from  her  beautiful  face.  Amid  the  breath- 
less silence  of  the  audience  she  repeated: 

*My  Jesus,  I  love  Thee,  I  know  Thou  art  mine; 
For  Thee  all  the  follies  of  sin  I  resign; 
My  gracious  Redeemer,  my  Saviour  art  Thou; 
If  ever  I  loved  Thee,  my  Jesus,  *tis  now.' 

This  was  all.  Through  Christ  she  had  conquered,  and, 
leaving  her  audience  in  tears,  she  retired  from  the 
stage,  never  to  appear  upon  it  again.  Through  her 
influence  her  father  was  converted,  and  through  their 
united  evangelistic  labors  many  were  led  to  God/' 

This  selection  was  sung  by  a  thousand  voices  at 
the  funeral  of  the  Scotch  missionary  hero,  Robert 
Annan,  who  was  drowned  in  the  bay  of  Dundee  while 
attempting  to  rescue  a  drowning  child,  in  1867.  Under 


150  Sankeys  Story 


the  hymn  Eternity/'  previously  mentioned  in  this 
book,  more  will  be  found  concerning  Robert  Annan. 

Nearer,  My  God  to  Thee 

Words  by  Sarah  F.  Adams  Music  by  Dr.  Lowell  Mason 

"Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee, 
Nearer  to  Thee/* 

One  of  my  last  lectures  on  "  Sacred  Song  and 
Story  "  was  delivered  before  a  large  audience  in  the 
Church  of  the  Covenant,  in  Washington,  D.  C,  at 
which  the  late  Secretary  of  State,  John  Hay,  members 
of  Congress,  and  Judges  of  the  Supreme  Court  were 
present.  The  favorite  hymn,  "  Nearer,  my  God,  to 
Thee,"  was  sung  very  heartily  by  the  congregation.  I 
requested  the  pastor,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Hamlin,  to  make 
an  appointment  for  an  interview  with  President  Mc- 
Kinley.  Two  days  later  we  visited  the  White  House. 
The  President  greeted  me  warmly,  saying  he  was  very 
glad  to  meet  me,  as  he  had  often  heard  me  sing  in  Ohio. 

I  understand  that  you  are  quite  a  fine  singer  your- 
self," I  replied.  He  smiled  and  said :  I  don't  know 
as  to  that,  but  I  try  to  sing  with  the  spirit  and  with 
the  understanding."  He  seemed  very  bright  and 
happy,  and  he  gave  me  his  autograph.  The  next  day 
the  President  went  to  New  York  and  attended  service 
at  the  Fifth  Avenue  Presbyterian  Church,  during 
which  Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee  "  was  sung.  The 
President's  voice  was  heard,  as  he  joined  heartily  in 
his  favorite  hymn.  A  reporter  took  a  photograph  of 
the  President  as  he  was  singing,  which  appeared  the 
next  day  in  one  of  the  New  York  papers.    In  1902, 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  151 


in  Buffalo,  as  he  lay  dying  by  the  hand  of  an  assassin, 
the  martyred  President  was  heard  singing  faintly, 

^'Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee, 
Nearer  to  Thee; 
E*en  though  it  be  a  cross 
That  raiseth  me! 
Still  all  my  song  shall  be — 
Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee, 
Nearer  to  Thee!'* 

And  thus  passed  away  one  of  the  noblest  men  of  our 
age.  On  the  day  of  his  funeral,  at  Canton,  Ohio,  all 
trains,  trolley  cars  and  nearly  all  machinery  in  the 
United  States  were  stopped  for  five  minutes,  and 
Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee  was  sung  in  nearly  every 
church  in  the  land. 

Bishop  Marvin,  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal 
Church,  was  traveling  during  the  Civil  War  in  the 
wilds  of  Arkansas.  He  was  feeling  much  depressed, 
for  the  Union  troops  had  driven  him  from  his  home. 
As  he  approached  a  dilapidated  old  log  cabin  he  heard 
some  one  singing,  Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee."  He 
alighted  and  entered  the  house.  There  he  found  a 
poor  woman,  widowed  and  old,  who  was  singing  in  the 
midst  of  such  poverty  as  he  had  never  seen  before. 
His  despondency  vanished  and  he  went  on  his  way 
happy  and  trustful,  because  of  the  faith  which  he  had 
seen  and  the  hymn  which  he  had  heard.  1 

A  little  drummer  boy  was  found,  after  the  battle 
of  Fort  Donelson,  by  one  who  visited  the  field.  The 
poor  lad  had  lost  an  arm,  which  had  been  carried  away 


152  Sankey's  Story 


by  a  cannon  ball,  but  even  as  he  lay  there  dying  he  was 
singing,    Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee." 

No  Hope  in  Jesus 

Words  by  W.  O.  Gushing  Music  by  Robert  Lowry 

"Oh,  to  have  no  Christ,  no  Saviour! 
No  Rock,  no  Refuge  nigh!" 

From  the  "  Rescue  Mission,"  of  Syracuse,  New 
York,  comes  this  incident.  "  One  of  the  workers  at  the 
Rescue  Mission  sat  at  the  window  sewing.  She  is  not 
a  grand  singer,  in  fact,  scarcely  ever  sings  in  the  meet- 
ing ;  but  alone  by  herself  she  sings  the  Gospel  songs. 
She  was  singing : 

'Oh,  to  have  no  Christ,  no  Saviour.   .   .  . 
How  dark  this  world  must  be!* 

When  she  had  finished  she  heard  some  one  calling,  and 
saw  two  girls  looking  over  a  neighboring  fence.  One 
said :  '  Won't  you  please  sing  that  again  ?  ' 

I  am  afraid  some  of  us  would  have  begun  to 
make  excuse,  and  say  we  were  not  singers.  But  this 
soul  sang  it  over  again,  praying  God  to  bless  the  song, 
and  then  went  to  talk  with  them.  She  recognized 
them  as  inmates  of  a  house  of  evil  resort,  and  asked 
permission  to  call  on  them.  They  would  not  grant 
this,  but  the  next  day  one  came  to  the  mission  and 
threw  herself,  weeping,  into  the  arms  of  the  singer, 
saying :  '  I  have  been  so  unhappy  since  I  heard  you 
sing!  You  remind  me  of  my  mother  and  the  days 
when  I  was  innocent  and  good.  I  had  a  good  home, 
but  quarreled  with  my  mother,  ran  away  and  got  into 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  153 


a  life  of  sin ;  I  am  tired  of  it,  won't  you  pray  for  me? ' 
They  had  prayer,  and  the  poor  wandering  one  was 
led  to  the  Saviour.  She  said :  '  Til  never  go  back  to 
that  place  again.  Fm  going  to  the  poor-master  and 
ask  him  to  send  me  home/ 

"  The  worker  furnished  the  money  to  pay  her  fare 
to  her  home  in  a  neigfhboring  city,  and  she  went  away 
rejoicing.  This  was  some  time  ago.  One  evening  the 
girl,  accompanied  by  her  father,  paid  a  visit  to  the  mis- 
sion. She  w^as  happy  in  Christ,  and  had  led  eleven 
souls  to  him,  her  father  and  mother  being  among  the 
number.  Her  father  was  full  of  praise  and  thanksgiv- 
ing to  God  for  what  he  had  done  for  his  erring  child, 
and  tears  ran  down  his  cheeks  as  he  thanked  the  singer 
for  the  song,  and  for  the  help  she  had  been  to  his 
daughter.  Her  desire  is  to  work  among  the  fallen 
ones  from  among  whom  she  was  rescued.'' 

Not  Half  has  ever  been  Told 

Words  by  the  Rev.  J.  B.  Atchinson  Music  by  O.  F.  Presbrcy 

"I  have  read  of  a  beautiful  city. 
Far  away  in  the  kingdom  of  God." 

"A  young  skeptic  in  Ohio,"  writes  Dr.  O.  F. 
Presbrey,  "  was  wasting  away  with  consumption.  His 
family  were  greatly  distressed,  for  nothing  seemed  to 
awaken  in  him  an  interest  regarding  his  soul.  One 
day,  as  he  lay  on  the  sofa,  his  sister,  sitting  at  the  organ, 
sang,  '  Not  half  has  ever  been  told.'  He  seemed  much 
affected  and  said,  '  Oh,  sister,  sing  that  hymn  again,  I 
never  had  anything  touch  my  heart  like  that  before.' 
The  hymn  was  sung  again,  and  day  by  day  he  listened 


154  San  key  s  Story 


to  it.  Within  two  months  his  spirit  took  its  flight, 
singing  as  it  went, 

'Not  half  of  that  city's  bright  glory, 
To  mortals  has  ever  been  told/ 

A  clergyman  had  a  son  who  was  sent  up  into  the 
north  woods  of  Canada  in  search  of  health.  After  a 
few  weeks  his  father  was  summoned,  and  found  him  in 
a  dying  condition.  On  the  evening  before  his  death 
they  sang  together  Not  half  has  ever  been  told.''  The 
father  says  that  he  can  never  forget  the  joy  and  peace 
which  filled  the  soul  of  his  dying  boy  as  they  sang  of 
that  beautiful  city  of  which  he  was  so  soon  to  be  an 
inhabitant. 

Not  Now,  My  Child 

Words  by  Mrs.  Pennefather  Music  by  Ira  D.  Sankcy 

"Not  now,  my  child, — a  little  more  rough  tossing, 
A  little  longer  on  the  billows'  foam/' 

Mrs.  Pennefather,  the  author  of  this  hymn,  was 
the  wife  of  one  of  the  ministers  who  invited  Mr.  Moody 
and  me  to  England  in  1873.  She  was  one  of  the  found- 
ers of  the  Mildmay  Conference,  in  the  north  of  Lon- 
don, and  also  organized  the  famous  Deaconess  Society, 
composed  of  many  ladies  of  distinction  who  therein 
seek  a  field  for  religious  ef¥ort.  I  arranged  her  hymn 
to  music,  and  often  used  to  sing  it  as  a  solo. 

A  young  lady  of  a  titled  family,  walking  one  day 
along  the  Strand,  saw  crowds  pushing  into  the  large 
building  where  we  were  holding  meetings.  Following 
the  crowd,  she  soon  found  herself  seated  and  listening 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  155 


to  a  stirring  sermon  by  Mr.  Moody.  I  also  sang  this 
hymn  as  a  solo.  The  whole  service  much  impressed 
the  young  lady.  At  the  conclusion  of  the  meeting, 
when  Mr.  Moody  invited  all  who  desired  to  become 
Christians  to  rise,  she  stood  up  with  hundreds  of 
others,  and  later  went  into  the  inquiry-room  and  there 
gave  her  heart  to  God.  When  she  went  home  she  an- 
nounced to  her  family  that  she  had  become  a  Chris- 
tian, and  they  laughed  her  to  scorn.  After  a  few  weeks 
she  decided  to  leave  her  home  and  cast  in  her  lot  with 
those  who  were  living  for  Christ.  She  went  to  Mrs. 
Pennefather,  and  put  on  the  dress  of  a  deaconess. 
There  she  continued  for  over  a  year.  One  day,  more 
than  a  year  later,  she  received  a  letter  from  her  father, 
a  Lord  of  the  realm,  asking  her  to  accompany  him  on 
his  yachting  trip  to  the  north  of  Scotland.  While  on 
the  trip  she  was  successful  in  leading  her  father  to  the 
Saviour.  Landing  in  Scotland,  they  found  some 
friends  from  London  in  a  little  fishing  village.  On  Sun- 
day the  question  arose  as  to  where  they  would  attend 
service.  They  finally  agreed  to  go  to  a  neighboring 
village  where  a  visiting  clergyman  was  to  give  an  ad- 
dress. The  young  lady  and  her  father  were  greatly 
impressed  with  the  sermon.  The  next  day  when  they 
returned  to  the  yacht,  his  Lordship  remarked  that  he 
would  like  to  have  that  clergyman  preach  his  funeral 
sermon.  On  the  return  trip  the  old  gentleman  caught 
a  severe  cold,  and  died  soon  afterward.  The  young 
lady  communicated  her  father's  wish  to  the  clergyman, 
and  he  conducted  the  funeral  services.  The  clergy- 
man became  interested  in  the  young  lady,  and  sought 
her  hand  in  marriage.    After  their  wedding  they  moved 


156  Sankeys  Story 


to  Scotland,  residing  on  a  large  estate  to  which  the 
clergyman  had  fallen  heir.  When  Mr.  Moody  and  I 
were  carrying  on  the  campaign  in  Scotland  we  were 
invited  to  visit  their  castle.  During  our  visit  there  we 
held  meetings  in  the  neighborhood  for  the  miners.  At 
the  suggestion  of  our  host  we  used  to  go  into  the  forest 
and  cut  down  trees  for  exercise.  Before  leaving  the 
estate  each  of  us  planted  a  tree  near  the  castle  gate, 
and  the  clergyman  named  one  of  them  "  Moody,"  and 
the  other  "  Sankey." 

Nothing  but  Leaves 

Words  by  L.  E.  Akerman  Music  by  Silas  J.  Vail 

"Nothing  but  leaves!    The  Spirit  grieves 
O'er  years  of  wasted  life.'* 

Mrs.  Lucy  Evelina  Akerman,  the  author  of  this 
hymn,  died  in  Providence,  Rhode  Island,  1874,  at  the 
age  of  twenty-four. 

The  hymn  was  a  special  favorite  at  the  early 
Moody  and  Sankey  meetings.  I  often  sang  it  as  a  solo 
for  Mr.  Moody's  lecture  on  The  Holy  Spirit."  While 
singing  it  in  Birmingham  a  lady  was  convinced,  as  she 
wrote  me  afterwards,  that  her  life  had  been  nothing 
but  leaves ;  and  she  then  decided  to  devote  the  rest 
of  her  Hfe  to  rescuing  her  lost  sisters.  She  secured  a 
building,  which  she  called  The  Rescue  Home,"  and 
for  years  she  gathered  in  poor,  wretched  girls  from 
the  streets  of  the  city,  gave  them  employment,  and 
taught  them  the  way  of  life.  Through  her  efforts  hun- 
dreds of  girls  were  saved.  After  her  death  the  city 
officials  took  up  her  work,  employing  other  women, 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  157 


who  are  still  engaged  in  seeking  the  lost  ones.  On  my 
last  visit  to  England  I  had  the  pleasure  of  visiting  this 
rescue  home  and  singing  for  the  inmates. 


"During  the  mission  in  1884,"  writes  M.  C. 
Boardman,  of  Stratford,  East  London,  the  hymn 
*  Nothing  but  leaves  '  was  often  sung.  It  brought  con- 
viction to  one  of  the  stewards.  He  said  that  this  song 
disturbed  him.  For  years  he  had  been  a  professor  of 
religion,  but  with  personal  interest  in  view.  He  said 
he  trusted  that  henceforth  there  would  be  fruit  as  well 
as  leaves  in  his  life.  From  that  time  he  has  been  an 
ardent  Christian  worker." 

O  for  a  Thousand  Tongues  to  Sing 

Words  by  Charles  Wesley  Music  by  Oliver  Holden 

"O  for  a  thousand  tongues  to  sing 
My  great  Redeemer's  praise." 

When  Charles  Wesley  consulted  Peter  Bbhler  as 
to  the  propriety  of  praising  God,  he  replied,  "  Had  I  a 
thousand  tongues,  I  would  praise  him  with  all " — an 
expression  that  is  believed  to  have  inspired  the  opening 
line  of  this  hymn  which  Wesley  wrote,  in  1739,  to  com- 
memorate the  first  anniversary  of  his  new  birthday,  the 
day  of  his  conversion.  When  John  Wesley  made  his 
collection  of  hymns  for  the  use  of  the  Methodists,  he 
selected  this  one  to  stand  as  the  first  hymn  in  the  book. 
To  this  day  it  remains  in  that  place  of  honor,  and  as 
the  Rev.  S.  W.  Duffield  says,  it  "  well  deserves  the 
prominence." 


158  Sankeys  Story 


Oh,  to  be  Nothing 

Words  by  Georgiana  M.  Taylor         Music  by  R.  G.  Halls.    Arr.  by  P.  P.  Bliss 

"  Oh,  to  be  nothing,  nothing, 
Only  to  He  at  His  feet." 

Miss  Taylor  writes  me :  The  idea  for  the  hymn 
came  into  my  mind  through  reading  the  expression, 
*  Oh,  to  be  nothing,'  in  a  volume  of  an  old  magazine. 
I  think  it  occurred  in  an  anecdote  about  an  aged  Chris- 
tian worker.  At  all  events  the  words  haunted  me ;  I 
mused  on  their  meaning,  and  the  hymn  was  the  out- 
come." 

Some  one  has  misinterpreted  the  true  meaning  of 
the  hymn,  and  has  written  another  entitled,  Oh,  to  be 
something."  But  it  is  not  in  accordance  with  the  Mas- 
ter, who  made  himself  nothing;  nor  is  it  in  the  spirit 
of  the  text  which  says  that  he  that  abaseth  himself  shall 
in  due  time  be  exalted. 

This  hymn  w^as  much  used  as  a  solo  in  our  meet- 
ings in  Great  Britain. 

Oh,  what  are  You  Going  to  Do? 

Words  by  Fanny  J.  Crosby  Music  by  Philip  Phillips 

"Oh,  what  are  you  going  to  do,  brother? 
Say,  what  are  you  going  to  do?'* 

Away  back  in  1867  this  hymn  was  written  and 
dedicated  to  the  Young  Men's  Christian  Associations 
of  America.  For  many  years  I  used  it  both  in  Great 
Britain  and  America.  Many  testimonies  have  been 
given  of  the  blessing  it  has  brought  to  young  men  who 
have  heard  it  sung. 

I  have  a  young  men's  Bible-class,''  writes  a 
Christian  worker  in  Rotherham,  England.  Some 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  159 


years  ago  one  of  my  scholars  brought  a  stranger  to  the 
class,  who  had  just  come  to  our  town  on  business.  He 
continued  to  attend  very  regularly  for  about  a  year. 
Having  obtained  a  better  business  appointment  in  a 
distant  town,  he  told  me  before  leaving  the  class  that 
when  he  first  arrived  he  had  fully  made  up  his  mind  to 
shake  himself  free  from  all  religious  influence;  as  he 
had  come  to  a  strange  town  where  no  one  knew  him, 
he  would  enjoy  himself  any  way  he  chose.  But  he  con- 
sented to  attend  the  class  just  once.  The  first  hymn 
sung  was,  '  Oh,  what  are  you  going  to  do,  brother  ? 
Say,  what  are  you  going  to  do?'  He  could  not  get 
it  out  of  his  head  all  the  week,  and  it  was  the  means 
of  entirely  setting  aside  his  intentions.  On  arriving 
at  his  new  home  he  immediately  united  with  a  Chris- 
tian church.  His  steady,  consistent  life  won  for  him 
further  promotion  in  business,  and  he  now  fills  a  posi- 
tion of  usefulness  and  responsibility  in  an  important 
town.  All  the  good  he  had  received  he  attributed  to 
that  hymn  on  the  first  Sunday  of  his  residence  here.'' 


On  Jordan's  Stormy  Banks 

Words  by  the  Rev.  Samuel  Stennett  Music  by  T.  C.  O'Kane 

"  On  Jordan's  stormy  banks  I  stand, 
And  cast  a  wishful  eye.'* 

While  visiting  the  Holy  Land  I  sang  this  hymn 
on  the  banks  of  the  Jordan,  opposite  Mount  Horeb, 
where  God  showed  Moses  the  promised  land  of  Ca- 
naan. As  the  banks  of  the  Jordan  are  not  stormy,  the 
word  "  rugged "  has  by  many  been  substituted  for 
"  stormy  "  in  the  first  line. 


i6o  Sankeys  Story 


Of  the  many  hymns  written  by  Dr.  Stennett,  this 
is  one  of  the  most  famous.  The  author  was  born  at 
Exeter,  England.  His  father  was  the  pastor  of  the 
Baptist  Church,  in  Little  Wild  Street,  London.  With 
this  church  young  Sennett  united.  He  became  his 
father's  assistant,  and  later  his  successor,  continuing 
in  that  pastorate  until  his  death,  in  1795,  at  the  age 
of  sixty-eight.  He  was  noted  as  the  friend  of  King 
George  HL  The  hymn  was  first  published  in  Rippon's 
"  Selections,"  in  1787. 

One  more  Day's  Work  for  Jesus 

Words  by  Miss  Anna  Warner  Music  by  the  Rev.  Robert  Lowry 

"  One  more  day's  work  for  Jesus; 
One  less  of  life  for  me." 

One  day,  while  the  children  in  a  Mission  Chapel 
were  singing  One  more  day's  work  for  Jesus/'  a 
woman  passing  by  stopped  outside  to  listen.  She 
went  home  with  these  words  fixed  in  her  mind.  The 
next  day,  as  she  was  bending  over  the  washtub,  the 
words  of  the  hymn  came  to  her  again  and  aroused  the 
question,  Have  I  ever  done  one  day's  work  for  Jesus 
in  all  my  life  ? "  That  marked  the  turning  point. 
There  and  then  she  began  to  work  for  Christ.  She 
washed  the  clothes  for  Jesus,  cleaned  the  house  for 
Jesus,  administered  the  needs  of  her  family  for  Jesus. 
A  new  light  came  into  her  life ;  and  at  the  close  of 
that  day  she  could  sing  with  a  different  feeling  and  a 
new  enthusiasm : 

"One  more  day's  work  for  Jesus; 
How  sweet  the  work  has  been." 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  i6i 


One  Sweetly  Solemn  Thought 

Words  by  Phoebe  Gary  Music  by  Philip  Phillips 

"One  sweetly  solemn  thought 
Comes  to  me  o'er  and  o'er." 

A  gentleman  traveling  in  China  found  at  Macao  a 
company  of  gamblers  in  a  back  room  on  the  upper  floor 
of  a  hotel.  At  the  table  nearest  him  was  an  American, 
about  twenty  years  old,  playing  with  an  old  man.  While 
the  gray-haired  man  was  shuffling  the  cards,  the  young 
man,  in  a  careless  way,  sang  a  verse  of  "  One  sweetly 
solemn  thought,''  to  a  very  pathetic  tune.  Several 
gamblers  looked  up  in  surprise  on  hearing  the  singing. 
The  old  man,  who  was  dealing  the  cards,  gazed  stead- 
fastly at  his  partner  in  the  game,  and  then  threw  the 
pack  of  cards  under  the  table. 

"  Where  did  you  learn  that  song?  "  he  asked.  The 
young  man  pretended  that  he  did  not  know  that  he  had 
been  singing.  "  Well,  no  matter,"  said  the  old  man, 
I  have  played  my  last  game,  and  that's  the  end  of  it. 
The  cards  may  lie  there  till  doomsday,  and  Til  never 
pick  them  up."  Having  won  a  hundred  dollars  from 
the  young  man,  he  took  the  money  from  his  pocket  and, 
handing  it  over  to  the  latter,  said :  "  Here,  Harry,  is 
your  money ;  take  it  and  do  good  with  it ;  I  shall  with 
mine." 

The  traveler  followed  them  downstairs,  and  at  the 
door  heard  the  old  man  still  talking  about  the  song 
which  the  young  man  had  sung.  Long  afterward  a 
gentleman  in  Boston  received  a  letter  from  the  old 
man,  in  which  he  declared  that  he  had  become  a  hard- 
working Christian,"  and  that  his  young  friend  also 
had  renounced  gambling  and  kindred  vices. 


l62 


Sarikey  s  Story 


This  hymn  was  composed  in  a  little  third-story 
bedroom  one  Sunday  morning  in  1852,  after  the  author 
had  come  from  church.  Miss  Carey  was  then  twenty- 
eight.  She  died  in  Newport,  Rhode  Island,  nineteen 
years  later. 

Only  a  Step  to  Jesus 

Words  by  Fanny  J.  Crosby  Music  by  W.  H.  Doane 

"Only  a  step  to  Jesus! 
Then  why  not  take  it  now?" 

The  editor  of  a  religious  periodical  in  the  South 
sends  me  the  following  incident,  which  occurred  while 
he  was  holding  meetings  in  a  small  town :  "  One  night 
a  prominent  man  of  the  county,  not  a  Christian,  was 
in  town.  Having  heard  of  the  fine  singing,  he  went 
to  the  meeting  for  a  few  minutes  to  listen  to  a  song  or 
two.  He  heard  only  one  song  and  then  went  away; 
but  that  song  went  with  him.  It  was,  '  Only  a  step  to 
Jesus !  Then  why  not  take  it  now  ? '  The  words 
stayed  with  him,  and  were  repeated  over  and  over. 
They  came  back  to  him  the  next  day,  and  awakened 
inquiry  regarding  himself  which  at  last  led  him  into 
repentance  and  a  happy  conversion.  Many  people 
wept  as  he  related  his  experience  before  the  church/' 

Only  Trust  Him 

Words  by  J.  H.  S.  Music  by  J.  H.  Stockton 

"  Come,  every  soul  by  sin  oppressed 
There*s  mercy  with  the  Lord." 

While  on  the  way  to  England  with  Mr.  Moody 
in  1873,  one  day  in  mid-ocean,  as  I  was  looking  over  a 
list  of  hymns  in  my  scrap-book,  I  noticed  one  com- 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  163 


mencing,  "  Come  every  soul  by  sin  oppressed,"  written 
by  the  Rev.  John  Stockton,  with  the  familiar  chorus, 

"  Come  to  Jesus, 
Come  to  Jesus, 
Come  to  Jesus  just  now." 

Believing  that  these  words  had  been  so  often  sung 
that  they  were  hackneyed,  I  decided  to  change 
them  and  tell  how  to  come  to  Jesus  by  substituting  the 
words,  Only  trust  him."  In  this  form  it  was  first  pub- 
lished in  "  Sacred  Songs  and  Solos  "  in  London.  While 
holding  meetings  in  Her  Majesty's  Theater  in  Pall 
Mall,  London,  and  singing  this  hymn,  I  thought  I 
would  change  the  chorus  again,  and  asked  the  people 
to  sing 

"  I  will  trust  Him, 
I  will  trust  Him, 
I  will  trust  Him  just  now." 

Then  as  we  sang  I  decided  to  change  it  once  more, 
and  asked  them  to  sing,  ''I  do  trust  him."  God 
blessed  this  rendering  of  the  hymn  to  eight  persons 
present,  who  testified  afterward  that  by  the  change 
they  were  led  to  accept  salvation. 

I  am  much  interested  in  sacred  songs,"  writes  a 
missionary  in  England,  "because  it  was  the  first  verse 
of  *  Only  trust  Him  '  that  opened  the  door  of  my  heart 
to  let  the  Master  into  my  soul  in  all  his  fulness.  I 
was  in  the  army,  and  found  my  way  to  the  Woolwich 
Soldiers'  Home,  where  I  heard  the  Gospel ;  and  for  a 
fortnight  I  was  groping  in  the  dark  for  peace,  when 
one  evening  I  heard  the  singing  of  'Only  trust  Him,- 


1 64  Sankey's  Story 


which  brought  Hght  into  my  soul.  I  have  ever  since 
been  happy,  serving  Him  with  my  whole  heart.  I 
am  now  a  missionary  to  my  comrades." 

Onward,  Christian  Soldiers 

Words  by  S.  Baring-Gould  Music  by  A.  S.  Sullivan 

y 

''Onward,  Christian  soldiers! 
'  Marching  as  to  war.'* 

Written  for  a  special  occasion,  the  author  was 
totally  unprepared  for  the  subsequent  popularity  of 
this  hymn.  In  1895  he  said  regarding  its  composi- 
tion :  "  Whit-Monday  is  a  great  day  for  school  festivals 
in  Yorkshire.  One  Whit-Monday,  thirty  years  ago,  it 
was  arranged  that  our  school  should  join  forces  with 
that  of  a  neighboring  village.  I  wanted  the  children 
to  sing  when  marching  from  one  village  to  another,  but 
couldn't  think  of  anything  quite  suitable ;  so  I  sat  up 
at  night,  resolved  that  I  would  write  something  myself. 
'  Onward,  Christian  soldiers  '  was  the  result.  It  was 
written  in  great  haste,  and  I  am  afraid  some  of  the 
rhymes  are  faulty.  Certainly  nothing  has  surprised 
me  more  than  its  popularity.  I  don't  remember  how 
it  got  printed  first,  but  I  know  that  very  soon  it  found 
its  way  into  several  collections.  I  have  written  a  few 
other  hymns  since  then,  but  only  two  or  three  have 
become  at  all  well-known."  The  tune  to  which  it  is 
now  sung  is  the  one  by  which  Sir  Arthur  Sullivan  is 
likely  to  be  known  longest  to  posterity. 

Mr.  Moody  would  not  give  out  this  hymn  in  con- 
nection with  his  meetings,  as  he  thought  it  contained 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  165 


too  much  vain  boasting.  He  would  exclaim :  "We  are 
a  nice  lot  of  soldiers !  " 

Out  of  the  Shadow-land 

Words  by  Ira  D.  Sankey  Music  by  Ira  D.  Sankcy 

Out  of  the  shadow-land,  into  the  sunshine, 
Cloudless,  eternal,  that  fades  not  away/* 

I  wrote  this  hymn  especially  for  the  memorial 
service  held  for  Mr.  Moody  in  Carnegie  Hall,  where  I 
also  sang  it  as  a  solo.  It  was  the  last  sacred  song  to 
which  I  wrote  both  the  words  and  music.  It  has  been 
largely  adopted  in  England  as  a  funeral  hymn.  As  it 
does  not  appear  in  Gospel  Hymns  "  the  words  as 
they  are  found  in  "  Sacred  Songs  and  Solos  "  are  here 
given  in  full. 

OUT  OF  THE  SHADOW-LAND 
Out  of  the  shadow-land,  into  the  sunshine, 

Cloudless,  eternal,  that  fades  not  away; 
Softly  and  tenderly  Jesus  will  call  us; 

Home,  where  the  ransom'd  are  gathering  to-day. 

Chorus. 

Silently,  peacefully,  angels  will  bear  us 

Into  the  beautiful  mansions  above; 
There  shall  we  rest  from  earth's  toiling  forever, 

Safe  in  the  arms  of  God's  infinite  love. 

Out  of  the  shadow-land,  weary  and  changeful, 

Out  of  the  valley  of  sorrow  and  night, 
Into  the  rest  of  the  life  everlasting. 

Into  the  summer  of  endless  delight. 

Out  of  the  shadow-land,  over  life's  ocean. 

Into  the  rapture  and  joy  of  the  Lord, 
Safe  in  the  Father's  house,  welcomed  by  angels, 

Ours  the  bright  crown  and  eternal  reward. 


1 66  Sankey's  Story 


Over  the  Line 

Words  by  Ellen  K.  Bradford  Music  by  E.  H.  Phelps 

''Oh,  tender  and  sweet  was  the  Master's  voice 
As  He  lovingly  called  to  me." 

We  were  holding  meetings  in  Springfield,  Massa- 
chusetts, in  1878.  One  day,  at  the  noon  meeting  in 
City  Hall,  a  minister  rose  on  the  platform  and  bore 
testimony  to  the  way  the  Lord  had  blessed  one  of  his 
sons,  a  Yale  student.  My  son,''  he  said,  ''happened 
to  be  seated  beside  a  gentleman  from  England  in  one 
of  Mr.  Moody's  meetings.  Tarrying  for  the  after- 
meeting,  he  was  spoken  to  by  the  gentleman  beside 
him  about  becoming  a  Christian.  After  half  an  hour 
spent  in  talking  they  went  out  into  the  street,  and  the 
gentleman  said  that  he  would  gladly  walk  home  with 
my  son  if  he  had  no  objection,  as  he  had  nothing  else 
to  do.  They  came  at  last  to  the  gate  which  led  to  my 
home.  Before  parting,  the  earnest  Christian  worker 
said  he  would  like  to  offer  one  more  prayer  for  my 
boy.  Holding  the  young  man's  hand,  he  asked  that 
the  Lord  would  enable  him  to  decide  the  great  question 
that  very  night.  With  this  prayer  they  separated. 
The  gentleman  left  town  the  next  day,  and  may  never 
know  how  God  heard  and  answered  his  prayer. 

*'  My  son  was  greatly  impressed.  Approaching 
the  house,  he  stopped  suddenly,  made  a  deep  line  across 
the  graveled  walk  with  his  cane,  and  said :  '  Now,  I 
must  decide  this  question,  for  or  against  Christ,  to- 
night. If  I  cross  the  line  my  life  shall  be  for  him ;  but 
if  I  go  around  it,  it  will  be  for  the  world.'  Standing 
there  considering  the  great  question  with  himself  for 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  167 


a  half  hour,  at  last  he  cried :  '  O  God,  help  me  to  decide 
aright ! '  Then  he  went  bounding  over  the  line,  and 
came  into  my  room  and  said:  'Father,  I  wish  you 
would  pray  for  me !  I  have  decided  to  be  a  Chris- 
tian.' "  The  minister  said  that  his  heart  went  out  in 
supplication  to  God  to  keep  and  bless  his  boy. 

This  story  affected  the  audience  to  tears.  One  of 
the  newspapermen,  Mr.  E.  H.  Phelps,  proprietor  of 
one  of  the  leading  papers  of  the  city,  took  down  the 
father's  story  and  published  it  the  next  morning.  And 
Mrs.  Bradford,  of  Palmer,  in  the  same  state,  after 
reading  the  incident  in  the  paper,  sat  down  and  wrote 
"  Over  the  Line.''  She  sent  the  hymn  to  the  editor  of 
the  paper,  Mr.  Phelps,  and  he  at  once  set  it  to  music. 
Three  days  later  he  handed  the  song  to  me.  I  adapted 
it  and  had  it  published  in  ''Gospel  Hymns."  It  has 
been  blessed  to  thousands  of  souls  all  over  the  world, 
leading  to  the  conversion  of  very  many. 

"  While  I  was  holding  a  series  of  revival  meetings 
at  Brigham,  Utah,"  relates  an  Iowa  clergyman,  "  a  man 
was  brought  to  a  full  surrender  of  himself  to  Christ  by 
the  singing  of  the  hymn,  '  Over  the  Line.'  The  first 
two  or  three  meetings  made  him  very  angry,  and  he 
determined  not  to  go  any  more ;  but  as  the  services 
increased  in  interest  his  anxiety  and  troubled  mind 
induced  him  to  return,  yet  only  as  an  observer.  He 
remained  in  the  lecture-room,  which  opened  into  the 
audience-room.  Here  he  was  noticed  walking  the  floor, 
as  if  in  bodily  pain.  But  when  at  the  close  of  the  meet- 
ing we  sang  this  hymn,  he  advanced  toward  the  pulpit, 
made  a  long  step  as  though  stepping  over  some  object, 


1 68  Sankey's  Story 


reached  out  his  hand  and  said  in  a  loud,  determined 
voice :  '  I  have  stepped  over  the  Hne/  This  dramatic 
surrender  to  Christ  and  pubhc  profession  had  a  power- 
ful effect  upon  the  audience,  and  many  more  followed 
his  example." 

A  missionary  sends  me  the  following  incident :  I 
was  holding  a  gospel  meeting  one  Sunday  in  a 
Woman's  Christian  Temperance  Union  mission.  We 
were  on  our  bended  knees  when  the  Spirit  said  to  me, 
sing, '  Over  the  Line.'  When  we  arose  I  turned  to  the 
lady  at  the  organ,  who  had  a  consecrated  voice,  and 
said,  sing  '  Over  the  Line.'  At  the  close  a  man  rose 
and  spoke  as  follows :  *  I  came  away  from  home  and 
family  and  work  two  weeks  ago  in  a  drunken  spree. 
Since  I  came  to  your  city  I  have  often  heard  of  this 
mission,  and  was  asked  to  come,  but  with  oaths  I  re- 
fused up  to  an  hour  ago,  and  then  I  entered  this  room. 
The  same  spirit  of  unbelief  possessed  me  until  this  lady 
began  to  sing.  Those  words  went  to  my  heart ;  they 
were  all  written  for  me,  and  as  she  sang  the  last  verse 
I  crossed  the  line,  I  gave  myself,  and ' — with  a  deep 
sob—  He  took  me.'  " 

Pass  Me  Not 

Words  by  Fanny  J.  Crosby  Music  by  W.  H.  Doane 

"Pass  me  not,  O  gentle  Saviour, 
Hear  my  humble  cry." 

An  earnest  Christian  pastor  told  of  a  young  man 
about  whom  he  had  long  felt  much  anxiety,  as  he  had 
seemed  so  unconcerned  about  his  soul,  and  was,  in 
reality,  a  real  cause  of  disturbance  and  interruption  in 
the  classes  for  other  young  men. 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  169 


Meeting  him  one  day,  the  loving  pastor  sought 
once  more  to  influence  him,  urging,  "  We  want  you 
for  Christ  and  his  service/'  There  was  a  certain 
change  in  his  manner  which  did  not  escape  the  eye  of 
the  prayerful  watcher  for  souls,  and — lacking  time  to 
do  more — he  seized  the  opportunity  to  secure  the  pres- 
ence of  his  young  friend  at  a  Christian  Endeavor  meet- 
ing soon  to  be  held.  True  to  his  promise  he  was  there. 
When  an  opportunity  was  given  for  some  of  the  young 
men  to  choose  a  song,  it  was  seen  that  he  was  urging 
his  companion  to  select  some  particular  hymn.  The 
other,  yielding  to  his  request,  asked  if  the  hymn, Pass 
me  not,  O  gentle  Saviour,"  might  be  sung;  and  both 
young  men  joined  in  the  singing  with  evident  interest 
and  heartiness.  Later  in  the  evening  it  was  requested 
that  all  who  were  definitely  on  the  Lord's  side  would 
confess  their  allegiance  by  standing.  Whereupon  the 
one  over  whom  the  heart  of  the  pastor  was  specially 
yearning  rose  at  once,  and  with  decision. 

Tell  me  about  your  conversion,''  the  thankful 
pastor  requested  at  the  close  of  the  meeting,  when 
hands  were  clasped  in  glad,  brotherly  welcome  and 
recognition. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  assented  the  other.  It  was  all 
through  that  hymn  we  have  just  sung.  I  was  working 
on  the  canal  at  G — ,  and  there  was  a  meeting  being 
held  at  the  Mariner's  Chapel,  near  by.  The  words 
floated  out  over  the  water,  and  from  the  tug  where  I 
was  working  I  could  hear  them  plainly  enough.  When 
they  were  just  going  to  sing  those  lines — 

While  on  others  Thou  are  calling. 
Do  not  pass  me  by!* 


170  Sankeys  Story 


a  great  fear  came  over  me,  and  I  thought,  '  Oh,  if  the 
Lord  were  to  pass  me  by,  how  terrible  it  would  be ! ' 
Then  and  there,  on  the  tug,  I  cried  out :  '  O  Lord,  do 
not  pass  me  by/  And  " — with  a  bright  smile — he 
didn't  pass  me  by.    I  am  saved/' 

No  hymn  in  our  collection  was  more  popular  than 
this  at  our  meetings  in  London  in  1874.  It  was  sung 
almost  every  day  in  Her  Majesty's  Theater,  in  Pall 
Mall,  and  has  been  translated  into  several  languages. 

At  one  of  our  noonday  prayer-meetings  in  Glas- 
gow a  prominent  gentleman  was  awakened  by  the  sing- 
ing of  this  hymn.  He  had  been  very  much  opposed  to 
our  meetings,  and  his  opposition  was  not  lessened 
when  he  saw  his  wife  converted.  That  day  he  had 
agreed  to  attend  the  meeting  for  the  last  time,  as  a 
sort  of  concession;  and  that  was  the  day  when  the 
Spirit  of  God  touched  him  by  this  hymn. 

Peace  !  Be  Still ! 

Words  by  Miss  M.  A.  Baker  Music  by  H.  R.  Palmer 

"Master,  the  tempest  is  raging! 
The  billows  are  tossing  high!" 

When  a  deep  and  comforting  spiritual  experience 
finds  expression  it  will  surely  bring  comfort  to  others, 
as  this  hymn  has  done  many  times.  Miss  Mary  A. 
Baker  has  told  of  its  origin : 

"  Dr.  Palmer  requested  me  to  prepare  several 
songs  on  the  subject  of  the  current  Sunday-school  les- 
sons.   One  of  the  themes  was  '  Christ  Stilling  the  Tern- 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  171 


pest/  It  so  expressed  an  experience  I  had  recently 
passed  through,  that  this  hymn  was  the  result.  A  very 
dear  and  only  brother,  a  young  man  of  rare  loveliness 
and  promise  of  character,  had  been  laid  in  the  grave,  a 
victim  of  the  same  disease  that  had  already  taken  father 
and  mother.  His  death  occurred  under  peculiarly  dis- 
tressing circumstances.  He  was  more  than  a  thousand 
miles  away  from  home,  seeking  in  the  balmy  air  of  the 
sunny  South  the  healing  that  our  colder  climate  could 
not  give.  Suddenly  he  grew  worse.  The  writer  was 
ill  and  could  not  go  to  him.  For  two  weeks  the  long 
lines  of  telegraph  wires  carried  back  and  forth  mes- 
sages between  the  dying  brother  and  his  waiting  sisters, 
ere  the  word  came  which  told  us  that  our  beloved 
brother  was  no  longer  a  dweller  on  the  earth.  Al- 
though we  mourned  not  as  those  without  hope,  and  al- 
though I  had  believed  on  Christ  in  early  childhood  and 
had  always  desired  to  give  the  Master  a  consecrated 
and  obedient  life,  I  became  wickedly  rebellious  at  this 
dispensation  of  divine  providence.  I  said  in  my  heart 
that  God  did  not  care  for  me  or  mine.  But  the  Master's 
own  voice  stilled  the  tempest  in  my  unsanctified  heart, 
and  brought  it  to  the  calm  of  a  deeper  faith  and  a  more 
perfect  trust.  Since  then  I  have  given  much  of  my 
time  and  strength  to  active  temperance  work  as  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Woman's  Christian  Temperance  Union.  Wit- 
nessing the  unparalleled  sufifering  that  comes  to  sisters, 
wives  and  mothers  through  the  legalized  curse  of  our 
land,  the  rum  traffic,  which  is  yearly  slaying  its  thou- 
sands and  tens  of  thousands  in  their  early  manhood 
and  hurrying  them  into  dishonored  graves,  I  have 
come  to  feel  a  keen  sense  of  gratitude  for  the  sweet 


172  Sankey's  Story 


memories  left  of  my  departed  brother.  God's  way  is 
best 

"  I  supposed  that  the  hymn  had  done  its  work 
and  gone  to  rest.  But,  during  the  weeks  when  our 
nation  kept  watch  by  the  bedside  of  our  greatly  be- 
loved President  Garfield,  it  was  republished  as  espe- 
cially appropriate  to  the  time,  and  was  sung  at  some  of 
the  many  funeral  services  held  throughout  the  United 
States.  It  is  quite  a  surprise  to  me  that  this  humble 
hymn  should  have  crossed  the  seas  and  been  sung  in 
far  distant  lands  to  the  honor  of  the  Saviour's  name." 


Pull  for  the  Shore 

Words  by  P.  P.  Bliss  Music  by  P.  P.  Bliss 

"Light  in  the  darkness,  sailor,  day  is  at  hand! 
See  o'er  the  foaming  billows  fair  Haven's  land.*' 

One  one  occasion  the  vessel  on  which  Mr.  Moody 
was  returning  from  Europe,  accompanied  by  his  oldest 
son,  was  disabled  by  the  breaking  of  a  propelling  shaft. 
Mrs.  Moody  was  at  my  home  in  Brooklyn,  waiting  to 
receive  them  on  their  arrival.  Day  after  day  passed 
without  word  from  the  steamer,  and  Mrs.  Moody  be- 
came almost  frantic  with  anxiety.  At  last  I  received 
this  cable  dispatch  from  Mr.  Moody :  "  Saved,  thank 
God."  I  learned  afterwards  that  the  people  gathered 
around  him  and  begged  him  to  pray  for  their  deliver- 
ance. Several  infidels  on  board,  who  had  been  mak- 
ing light  of  Mr.  Moody's  work,  were  found  kneeling 
at  his  side,  and  through  the  earnestness  of  his  prayers 
and  divine  help  they  were  led  to  Christ. 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  173 


Rescue  the  Perishing 

Words  by  Fanny  J.  Crosby  Music  by  W.  H.  Doane 

"  Rescue  the  perishing, 
Care  for  the  dying." 

On  a  stormy  night  a  middle-aged  man  staggered 
into  the  Bowery  Mission.  He  was  intoxicated,  his 
face  unwashed  and  unshaven,  and  his  clothes  soiled 
and  torn.  He  sank  into  a  seat,  and,  gazing  around, 
seemed  to  wonder  what  kind  of  a  place  he  had  come 
into.  "  Rescue  the  perishing  and  other  gospel  hymns 
were  sung  and  seemed  to  interest  him,  and  to  recall 
some  memory  of  his  youth  long  since  forgotten.  As 
the  leader  of  the  meeting  told  the  simple  story  of  the 
Gospel,  and  how  the  Lord  had  come  to  seek  and  save 
sinners,  the  man  listened  eagerly.  The  leader  in  his 
younger  days  had  been  a  soldier  and  had  seen  hard 
and  active  service.  In  the  course  of  his  remarks  he 
mentioned  several  incidents  which  had  occurred  in  his 
experience  during  the  war,  and  he  gave  the  name  of 
the  company  in  which  he  served.  At  the  close  of  the 
meeting  the  man  eagerly  staggered  up  to  the  leader 
and  in  a  broken  voice  said : 

When  were  you  in  that  company  you  spoke  of?  " 
Why,  all  through  the  war,"  said  the  leader. 

"  Do  you  remember  the  battle  of  ?  " 

"  Perfectly." 

"Do  you  remember  the  name  of  the  captain  of 
your  company  at  that  time." 

Yes,  his  name  was  ." 

"You  are  right!  I  am  that  man.  I  was  your 
captain.    Look  at  me  to-day,  and  see  what  a  wreck  I 


174 


Sankeys  Story 


am.  Can  you  save  your  old  captain?  I  have  lost 
everything  I  had  in  the  world  through  drink,  and  I 
don't  know  where  to  go." 

He  was  saved  that  night,  and  was  soon  helped  by 
some  of  his  former  friends  to  get  back  his  old  position. 
He  often  told  the  story  of  how  a  soldier  saved  his  cap- 
tain, and  how  much  he  loved  the  words  of  "  Rescue  the 
perishing." 

A  man  in  Sussex,  England,  gives  this  testimony : 
I  believe  I  can  attribute  my  conversion,  through  the 
grace  of  God,  to  one  verse  of  that  precious  hymn, 
'  Rescue  the  perishing.'  I  was  far  away  from  my 
Saviour,  and  living  without  a  hope  in  Jesus.  I  was 
very  fond  of  singing  hymns,  and  one  day  I  came  across 
this  beautiful  piece,  and  when  I  had  sung  the  words, 

'Touched  by  a  loving  heart,  wakened  by  kindness, 
Chords  that  were  broken  will  vibrate  once  more,' 

I  fell  upon  my  knees  and  gave  my  heart  to  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ.  From  that  hour  I  have  followed  him 
who,  through  this  verse,  touched  my  heart  and  made 
it  vibrate  with  his  praises  ever  since." 

Fanny  Crosby  returned,  one  day,  from  a  visit  to 
a  mission  in  one  of  the  worst  districts  in  New  York 
City,  where  she  had  heard  about  the  needs  of  the  lost 
and  perishing.  Her  sympathies  were  aroused  to  help 
the  lowly  and  neglected,  and  the  cry  of  her  heart  went 
forth  in  this  hymn,  which  has  become  a  battle-cry  for 
the  great  army  of  Christian  workers  throughout  the 
world.    It  has  been  used  very  extensively  in  temper- 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  175 


ance  work,  and  has  been  blessed  to  thousands  of  souls. 
Mr.  Moody  was  very  fond  of  it,  and  has  borne  testi- 
mony to  its  power  to  reach  the  hearts  of  wanderers. 
It  was  also  a  favorite  of  the  two  great  temperance 
workers,  Frances  E.  Willard  and  Francis  Murphy. 

Rest  for  the  Weary 

Words  by  the  Rev.  S.  Y.  Harmer  Music  by  the  Rev.  William  McDonald 

"In  the  Christian's  home  in  glory, 
There  remains  a  land  of  rest;" 

A  fifteen-year-old  girl,  of  good  family,  was  pres- 
ent at  one  of  our  meetings  in  the  Free  College  Church 
of  Glasgow,  in  1874,  and  at  the  close  of  the  meeting 
remained  among  the  inquirers  at  the  College  Hall. 
Here  she  was  spoken  to  by  a  lady,  and  was  led  to 
Christ.  Going  home,  she  told  her  mother  that  she 
was  now  happy  in  the  Lord.  That  very  night  she  was 
taken  sick,  symptoms  of  scarlet  fever  appearing.  Prayer 
was  offered  for  her  at  the  daily  prayer-meetings.  Per- 
haps most  of  her  friends  thought  that  the  Lord  would 
answer  their  supplications  by  restoring  her  to  health ; 
but  he  had  a  purpose  of  another  kind.  He  meant  to 
take  her  away  to  himself,  and  to  teach  others  by  her 
removal.  When  it  was  evident  that  she  was  dying 
she  told  her  father  that  she  was  going  home  to  Christ. 
Near  the  end,  he  tried  to  sing  with  her  "  In  the  Chris- 
tian's home  in  glory.''    She  caught  up  the  words, 

"There  my  Saviour's  gone  before  me. 
To  fulfill  my  souFs  request.'* 

and  faithfully  repeated  them.    Her  voice  died  away; 


176  Sankey's  Story 


those  were  the  last  words  she  was  heard  to  utter. 
Before  this  she  had  sent  a  message  of  thanks  to  Mr. 
Moody  and  myself,  and  to  the  lady  who  had  led  her 
to  Christ. 

Ah/'  said  Mr.  Moody,  in  telling  of  this,  would 
not  any  one  have  regretted  missing  the  opportunity  of 
helping  this  soul,  who  has  sent  back  her  thanks  from 
the  very  portals  of  glory  ?  " 

Ring  the  Bells  of  Heaven 

Words  by  William  O.  Gushing  Music  by  George  F.  Root 

"Ring  the  bells  of  heaven!  there  is  joy  to-day 
For  a  soul,  returning  from  the  wild." 

'  Ring  the  bells  of  heaven  '  was  written,"  says 
the  author,  to  fit  a  beautiful  tune  sent  me  by  George 
F.  Root,  entitled,  '  The  little  Octoroon.'  After  receiv- 
ing it,  the  melody  ran  in  my  head  all  day  long,  chiming 
and  flowing  in  its  sweet  musical  cadence.  I  wished 
greatly  that  I  might  secure  the  tune  for  work  in  the 
Sunday-school  and  for  other  Christian  purposes.  When 
I  heard  the  bells  of  heaven  ringing  over  some  sinner 
that  had  returned,  it  seemed  like  a  glad  day  in  heaven. 
Then  the  words  '  Ring  the  bells  of  heaven,'  at  once 
flowed  down  into  the  waiting  melody.  It  was  a  beau- 
tiful and  blessed  experience,  and  the  bells  seem  ringing 
yet." 

A  little  girl  in  England,  who  was  much  beloved 
by  her  parents,  was  dying.  She  had  been  very  fond 
of  our  hymns  and  would  often  speak  of  how  much 
she  loved  them.    A  few  days  before  she  died  she  said 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  177 


to  her  mother :  "  When  I  am  gone,  mother,  will  you 
ask  the  girls  of  the  school  to  sing  that  hymn, 

*Ring  the  bells  of  heaven!  There  is  joy  to-day, 

For  a  soul  returning  from  the  wild; 
See!  the  Father  meets  him  out  upon  the  way. 

Welcoming  His  weary,  wandering  child! 
Glory!  glory!  how  the  angels  sing! 
Glory!  glory!  how  the  loud  harps  ring!' " 

Half  an  hour  before  her  departure  she  exclaimed : 
"  Oh,  mother,  Hsten  to  the  bells  of  heaven !  they  are 
ringing  so  beautifully !  " 

Rock  of  Ages 

Words  by  A.  M.  Toplady  Music  by  Dr.  Thomas  Hastings 

"Rock  of  Ages,  cleft  for  me, 
Let  me  hide  myself  in  Thee." 

In  the  year  1756  a  young  man  of  sixteen,  while 
visiting  with  his  mother  in  Ireland,  attended  an  evan- 
gelistic meeting  held  in  a  barn  at  the  little  village  of 
Codymain.  At  this  meeting  the  young  man  was  con- 
verted. He  was  none  other  than  Augustus  Montague 
Toplady,  who  afterwards  wrote  this  famous  hymn. 
Of  his  conversion  the  author  says :  Strange  that  I, 
who  had  so  long  sat  under  the  means  in  England, 
should  be  brought  right  unto  God  in  an  obscure  part 
of  Ireland,  midst  a  handful  of  people  met  together  in 
a  barn,  and  by  the  ministry  of  one  who  could  hardly 
spell  his  own  name.  Surely  it  was  the  Lord's  doing, 
and  is  marvelous." 

At  the  age  of  twenty-two  Toplady  received  orders 
in  the  Church  of  England.    He  was  a  strong  Calvin- 


178  Sankey's  Story 


ist,  and  the  author  of  many  popular  hymns.  He  died 
in  1778.  Rock  of  Ages  "  was  first  pubHshed  in  1776, 
in  The  Gospel  Magazine/'  of  which  he  was  the 
editor.  The  hymn  has  been  more  or  less  altered  and 
rearranged  several  times  since  then,  but  the  sentiment 
remains  the  same. 

It  was  to  this  hymn  that  the  beloved  Prince  Con- 
sort, Albert  of  England,  turned,  repeating  it  constantly 
upon  his  death-bed.  For,''  said  he,  "  if  in  this  hour 
I  had  only  my  worldly  honors  and  dignities  to  depend 
upon,  I  should  be  poor  indeed.'' 

Mrs.  L.  S.  Bainbridge,  who,  with  her  husband,  vis- 
ited China  for  the  purpose  of  studying  Christian  mis- 
sions, tells  the  following  incident :  "  The  Chinese 
women,  it  seems,  are  so  anxious  to  '  make  merit '  for 
themselves,  that  they  will  perform  any  labor  to  escape 
the  painful  transmigrations  of  the  next  life.  They 
dread  to  be  born  again  as  dogs  or  cats,  and  the  highest 
hope  possessed  by  them  is  to  be  reborn  as  men.  In 
order  to  secure  this  they  do  any  and  every  meritorious 
act.  One  woman  had  excavated  with  her  poor,  weak 
hands  a  well  twenty  feet  deep,  and  it  was  only  after 
this  achievement  that  she  learned  of  the  free  Gospel 
of  salvation.  She  was  now  a  woman  of  eighty,  and, 
stretching  out  her  aged  and  crippled  fingers,  we  sang 
together, 

*  Nothing  in  my  hand  I  bring, 
Simply  to  Thy  cross  I  cling.' " 

Years  ago,  when  a  ship  sank  in  the  Bay  of  Biscay, 
a  man  who  was  saved  was  asked  what  the  passengers 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  179 


were  doing  when  the  ship  went  down.  He  said  that 
the  last  he  heard  was  "  Rock  of  Ages/'  sung  by  all 
who  could  join  in  it. 

Several  tunes  have  been  written  for  this  hymn, 
the  most  popular  one,  however,  being  the  tune  by  Dr. 
Thomas  Hastings,  who  was  born  at  Washington,  Con- 
necticut, in  1784,  and  who  died  in  New  York  in  1872. 
He  wrote  many  hymns  and  published  several  hymn- 
books.  I  have  in  my  possession  a  large  number  of 
hymns  set  to  music  by  Mr.  Hastings  which  have  never 
been  published. 


Safe  in  the  Arms  of  Jesus 

Words  by  Fanny  J.  Crosby  Music  by  W.  H.  Doane 

''Safe  in  the  arms  of  Jesus, 
Safe  on  His  gentle  breast." 

Mr.  Doane  came  into  a  room  in  New  York,  once, 
where  Fanny  Crosby  was  talking  with  Mr.  Bradbury, 
the  father  of  Sunday-school  music,  and  said  to  her: 
"  Fanny,  I  have  written  a  tune  and  I  want  you  to  write 
words  for  it." 

"  Let  me  hear  how  the  tune  goes,"  she  replied. 
After  Mr.  Doane  had  played  it  over  for  her  on  a  small 
organ,  she  at  once  exclaimed :  Why,  that  tune  says, 
'  Safe  in  the  arms  of  Jesus,'  and  I  will  see  what  I  can 
do  about  it." 

She  at  once  retired  to  an  adjoining  room,  where 
she  spent  half  an  hour  alone.  On  returning  she 
quoted  to  Mr.  Doane  the  words  of  this  now  immortal 


i8o  Sankey's  Story 


hymn.  It  was  first  published  in  the  book  entitled 
"  Songs  of  Devotion." 

A  party  of  steerage  passengers  were  gathered  one 
foggy  day  below  decks  on  an  Allan  liner  near  the  en- 
trance of  the  Belle  Isle  Straits.  They  were  cold  and 
cheerless  and  weary  of  the  voyage,  though  only  two 
days  out,  and  a  lady  had  come  down  to  talk  and  sing 
to  them.  The  subject  was  Stepping  over  the  line," 
and  the  song  was  Safe  in  the  arms  of  Jesus."  She 
told  the  story  of  a  young  sailor,  who  was  summoned  to 
his  mother's  death-bed.  WilHe,"  said  the  mother, 
looking  up  at  him  with  tearful  eyes,  sing  to  me  once 
more  '  Safe  in  the  arms  of  Jesus.'  "  Mother,"  he 
replied,  I  can't  sing  that  song.  It  would  be  a  He ;  I 
am  not  safe,  and  I  can't  sing  a  lie."  The  speaker  said 
that  she  thanked  God  that  the  young  sailor  afterward 
stepped  over  the  line  and  was  safe.  After  the  story 
W'as  told  and  a  hymn  sung,  a  man  suddenly  left  his 
place  among  the  listeners.  The  lady  was  troubled. 
Had  she  offended  him  or  was  his  conscience  stricken  ? 
She  watched  for  him  day  after  day,  but  a  storm  suc- 
ceeded the  fog,  and  it  was  not  until  the  last  day  of  the 
voyage  that  she  saw  him  again.  Then,  while  the  vessel 
was  moored  in  Moville  Harbor,  and  all  was  bustle  on 
deck,  the  tall  Scotchman  sought  her,  saying  : 

Oh,  I  am  so  glad  that  I  have  found  you  again ! 
I  could  not  leave  without  thanking  you  for  those 
words  you  sang,  '  Safe  in  the  arms  of  Jesus.'  I  felt 
that  I  could  not  sing  that  hymn,  as  I  was  not  safe.  I 
have  been  to  church  all  my  life,  and  have  taken  the 
sacrament ;  but  I  was  not  safe,  and  I  could  not  sing  it. 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  1 8 1 


Then  came  the  storm  and  I  was  miserable,  for  I 
thought  we  might  go  to  the  bottom  and  I  should  be 
lost." 

"  And  what  did  you  do  then  ?    asked  the  lady. 

"  Why,  I  remembered  how  you  said  that  we  might 
trust  the  Lord  Jesus  to  save  us  now — and  I  did  trust 
him  right  there  in  my  berth.  I  stepped  over  the  line, 
and  now  I  can  praise  him,  for  I  am  safe  in  his  arms, 
and  I  wish  to  live  to  his  glory." 

Two  little  girls  were  playing  in  a  corner  of  the 
nursery  with  their  dolls,  and  singing  as  they  played, 
*'  Safe  in  the  arms  of  Jesus,  safe  on  his  gentle  breast." 
Their  mother  was  writing,  only  stopping  now  and  then 
to  listen  to  the  little  ones'  talk,  unobserved  by  them. 

"  Sister,  how  do  you  know  that  you  are  safe  ?  " 
asked  Nellie,  the  youngest. 

Because  I  am  holding  Jesus  with  both  my  hands 
— tight !  "  was  the  reply. 

Ah,  that  is  not  safe,"  said  Nellie.  Suppose 
Satan  came  along  and  cut  your  two  hands  off !  " 

The  sister  looked  much  troubled  for  a  few  mo- 
ments, dropped  her  doll  and  thought  deeply.  Sud- 
denly her  face  shone  with  joy,  and  she  cried  out,  "  Oh ! 
I  forgot!  I  forgot!  Jesus  is  holding  me  with  his  two 
hands,  and  Satan  can't  cut  his  hands  off ;  so  I  am  safe !" 

A  party  of  friends,  traveling  in  the  Alps,  com- 
menced to  sing  the  first  verse  of  this  hymn,  when, 
much  to  their  surprise,  they  heard  the  second  verse 
taken  up  on  another  mountain  peak,  as  a  response ;  and 


1 82  Sankeys  Story 


though  the  two  parties  of  tourists  could  not  see  each 
other,  they  sang  the  alternate  verses  and  passed  on 
their  way. 

A  gentleman  of  London  whites  me  as  follow^s: 
My  dear  little  girl  Mary,  aged  six,  greatly  loved  the 
hymn, '  Safe  in  the  arms  of  Jesus,'  and,  having  learned 
the  tune,  was  continually  singing  it.  One  day,  having 
a  longing,  wdstful  look  in  her  eyes  after  singing  it,  I 
said  to  her : '  What  are  you  thinking  of,  darling  ?  '  She 
answered :  '  I  do  want  to  go  and  be  with  Jesus.'  I 
asked  her  what  I  should  do  without  her,  she  being  my 
only  Httle  girl.  She  sighed  and  said :  '  Very  w^ell,  then 
I  won't  go  just  yet,  though  I  should  like  to.'  A  few 
weeks  after  this  she  was  seized  with  scarlet  fever  of 
a  very  malignant  type.  She  w^as  buried  in  six  days. 
The  morning  she  was  taken  ill  she  said  to  her  little 
brother,  who  was  ill  in  the  same  room :  '  Look  here, 
Willie,  I  can  find  my  own  hymn  myself  now,  Safe  in 
the  arms  of  Jesus."  '  She  showed  it  to  Willie,  w^ho 
asked  if  they  should  sing  it.  '  No,'  she  said,  '  I  can't 
sing  with  my  head  this  w^ay.'  She  then  became  de- 
lirious and  never  spoke  rationally  again.  She  soon 
took  her  flight  to  the  arms  of  Jesus,  where  she  had  so 
longed  to  be." 

At  the  close  of  one  of  our  meetings  in  the  Circus 
in  Glasgow  a  woman  came  to  me  w'hen  I  w^as  seated 
with  an  inquirer.  After  waiting  until  I  was  at  liberty, 
she  said :  Mr.  Sankey,  I  want  to  tell  you  something 
about  my  daughter  Maggie.  She  was  converted  when 
you  were  here  eight  years  ago,  but  has  now  gone  home 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  1 83 


to  heaven,  and  I  want  to  tell  you  what  she  said  when 
she  was  dying.  She  asked  me  to  get  her  little  hymn- 
book,  and  when  I  brought  it  she  asked  me  to  turn  to 
No.  25,  saying,  '  I  want  to  sing  it.'  '  Why,  my  child,' 
said  I,  *  you  are  not  able  to  sing.'  '  Yes,'  she  said,  *  I 
want  to  sing  one  more  song  before  I  go;  will  you 
please  turn  to  the  twenty-fifth  hymn, "  Safe  in  the  arms 
of  Jesus."  I  found  it  for  her  and  she  began  to  sing 
at  these  lines, 

*Hark!  'tis  the  voice  of  angels. 

Borne  in  a  song  to  me, 
Over  the  fields  of  glory. 
Over  the  jasper  sea.' 

Her  voice  then  seemed  to  fail  her,  and  she  said: 
'  Mother,  lift  me  up.'  I  put  my  arms  under  her  and 
lifted  my  poor  girl  up,  and  then  she  raised  her  eyes 
to  heaven  and  said :  *  Jesus,  I  am  coming ;  Jesus,  I  am 
coming.'  The  doctor,  who  was  standing  by  her  side, 
said  : '  How  can  you  sing  when  you  are  so  weak  ?  '  She 
replied :  '  Jesus  helps  me  to  sing ;  Jesus  helps  me  to 
sing.'  And  with  those  words  upon  her  lips,  she  died 
in  my  arms."  The  mother  said  that  she  took  the  little 
hymn-book  and  laid  it  upon  the  girl's  breast;  it  was 
buried  with  her. 

Once  when  laboring  in  London  I  went  to  Basel, 
Switzerland,  for  a  few  days'  rest.  The  evening  I  got 
there  I  heard  under  my  window  the  most  beautiful 
volume  of  song.  I  looked  out  and  saw  about  fifty 
people,  who  were  singing  Safe  in  the  arms  of  Jesus, 
safe  on  his  gentle  breast "  in  their  own  language,  but 


184  Sankeys  Story 


I  recognized  the  tune.  I  spoke  to  them  through  an 
interpreter.  The  next  evening  I  held  a  song  service 
in  an  old  French  church  in  that  city.  The  church  was 
packed  with  people,  and  many  stood  outside  on  the 
street. 

Dr.  John  Hall,  of  the  Fifth  Avenue  Presbyterian 
Church,  in  New  York,  said  of  this  hymn,  in  a  great 
Sunday-school  convention  in  Brooklyn,  that  it  gave 
more  peace  and  satisfaction  to  mothers  who  had  lost 
their  children  than  any  other  hymn  he  had  ever  known. 
It  has  become  very  famous  throughout  the  world,  and 
was  one  of  the  first  American  hymns  to  be  translated 
into  foreign  languages. 

Fanny  Crosby  is  one  of  the  most  celebrated  of 
hymn-writers,  and  has  written  more  than  five  thousand 
hymns,  many  of  which  have  become  very  widely 
known.  She  was  born  in  1820,  and  lost  her  eyesight 
when  six  months  old,  through  the  ignorant  application 
of  a  hot  poultice  to  her  eyes.  In  1835  she  entered  the 
New  York  Institution  for  the  Blind,  where  she  was 
graduated  in  1842.  She  was  a  teacher  at  this  insti- 
tution from  1847  to  1858,  when  she  was  married  to 
Mr.  Alexander  Van  Alstyne,  who  also  was  blind.  Mrs. 
Van  Alstyne  has  written  her  hymns  under  her  maiden 
name. 

The  Rev.  Dr.  George  Duffield,  just  before  his 
death,  said  of  her  work :  "  I  rather  think  her  talent 
will  stand  beside  that  of  Watts  and  Wesley,  especially 
if  we  take  into  consideration  the  number  of  hymns 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  1 85 


she  has  written."  At  her  present  age  of  eighty-five 
she  is  still  active,  and  she  is  always  happy. 

Saved  by  Grace 

Words  by  Fanny  J.  Crosby  Music  by  George  C.  Stebbins 

*'Some  day  the  silver  cord  will  break, 
And  I  no  more  as  now  shall  sing." 

In  1894  Mr.  Moody  and  I  were  holding  meetings 
in  England.  It  was  decided  between  us  that  Mr. 
Moody  should  remain  in  England  while  I  returned  to 
America  to  assist  Dr.  A.  J.  Gordon,  of  Boston,  in  con- 
ducting the  Summer  Conference  in  Northfield.  I  was 
entertaining  Fanny  Crosby  in  my  summer  home  there. 
One  evening  I  asked  the  popular  hymn-writer  if  she 
would  make  a  short  address  to  her  many  friends  gath- 
ered at  the  convention.  She  at  first  declined,  but  on 
further  persuasion  she  consented  to  speak  for  a  few 
moments.  I  led  her  forward  to  the  desk  on  which  lay 
the  Bible  and,  standing  there,  she  spoke  beautifully 
for  a  short  time.  Closing  her  remarks,  she  recited  a 
hymn  never  before  heard  in  public,  entitled  "  Saved  by 
Grace." 

I  afterward  learned  that  my  friend,  L.  H.  Biglow 
— after  attending  a  prayer-meeting  conducted  by  the 
late  Dr.  Howard  Crosby,  where  the  subject  was 
Grace  " — had  asked  Fanny  Crosby  to  write  a  hymn 
on  that  subject.  She  immediately  retired  to  an  adjoin- 
ing room,  and  in  the  course  of  an  hour  returned  with 
the  words,  *'Some  day  the  silver  cord  will  break,  and 
I  no  more  as  now  shall  sing."  Mr.  Biglow  secured 
the  words  from  her,  and  put  them  in  the  safe  among 
other  hymns  which  she  had  written ;  but  the  song  was 


1 86  Sankefs  Story 


evidently  forgotten  until  recited  by  its  author  at 
Xorthfield. 

A  reporter  of  a  London  paper  who  was  present 
at  Xorthfield  took  her  address,  and  also  the  hymn, 
which  he  carried  back  to  England  and  published 
in  his  paper,  thus  sending  it  around  the  world.  Four 
cr  five  weeks  later  I  found  it  in  a  copy  of  his  paper. 
Cutting  it  out,  I  handed  it  to  George  C.  Stebbins,  ask- 
ing him  to  set  it  to  music.  During  the  following  years 
the  song  became  one  of  iMr.  iloody's  favorites,  and  is 
now  sung  by  hundreds  of  thousands  of  people  through- 
out the  world. 

A  newspaper  of  Allegheny,  Pennsylvania,  recently 
gave  this  incident  in  startling  headlines : 

"  The  congregation  of  Christ  Protestant  Episco- 
pal Church,  Union  Avenue,  Allegheny,  the  Rev.  Rob- 
ert ]\Ieech,  rector,  was  startled  yesterday  morning  by  a 
sensational  supplement  to  the  morning  service.  The 
church  was  well  filled  and  devout  worshipers  responded 
to  the  service  as  read  by  the  rector.  The  reading  had 
been  concluded,  and  the  rector  was  about  to  make  the 
usual  announcements  of  future  services  when  an  inci- 
dent occurred  such  as  old  Christ  Church  had  never 
dreamed  of.  Out  of  the  usual  line  in  a  church  of  this 
denomination,  it  was  nevertheless  marked  in  its  eflPect, 
and  will  never  be  forgotten  by  those  present. 

In  the  fourth  pew  from  the  front  aisle  of  the 
church  sat  a  neatly-dressed  woman  of  intellectual  face, 
apparently  about  thirty  years  of  age.  Her  presence 
as  a  stranger  had  been  noticed  by  many,  and  her  deep, 
tearful  interest  in  the  service  had  been  quietly  com- 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  187 


merited  on  by  those  who  occupied  the  adjoining  pews. 
At  the  point  mentioned  she  rose  to  her  feet  and,  strug- 
gling with  emotion,  began  to  speak.  The  startled  con- 
gregation was  all  attention,  and  she  was  allowed  to 
proceed.  Rapidly  and  eloquently  she  told  of  her  going 
out  from  the  church  and  of  her  return  to  it.  In 
graphic  words  she  painted  the  hideousness  of  sin  and 
the  joys  of  a  pure  life,  and  as  she  spoke  men  and 
women  gave  way  to  their  emotions  and  listened  breath- 
lessly to  the  end  of  the  narration. 

"  I  was  christened  in  this  church,"  she  said,  "  and 
attended  Sunday-school  in  the  basement  when  good 
old  Dr.  Paige  was  rector.  My  mother  was  a  devout 
member  here,  and  taught  me  the  right  way.  At  the 
age  of  fifteen  I  deserted  my  home  and  married  an  actor. 
For  a  number  of  years  I  followed  the  profession,  lead- 
ing such  a  life  as  naturally  accompanies  it.  In  dra- 
matic circles,  in  variety  business,  and  in  the  circus,  I 
spent  those  godless  years. 

"  About  two  years  ago  1  was  in  the  city  of  Chi- 
cago. One  afternoon  I  was  on  my  way  to  Ferris 
Wheel  Park  to  spend  the  afternoon  in  revelry,  when 
I  happened  on  the  open-air  meeting  which  the  Epworth 
League  of  Grace  Methodist  Episcopal  Church  was  con- 
ducting on  North  Park  Street.  I  stopped  through 
curiosity,  as  I  beHeved,  to  listen ;  but  I  know  now  that 
God  arrested  my  footsteps  there.  They  were  singing 
'  Saved  by  Grace,'  and  the  melody  impressed  me. 
Recollections  of  my  childhood  days  came  trooping 
into  my  soul,  and  I  remembered  that  in  all  the  years 
of  my  absence  my  mother,  until  her  death  nine  years 
ago,  had  been  praying  for  me. 


1 88  Sankey's  Story 


"  I  was  converted  and,  falling  on  my  knees  on  the 
curbstone,  I  asked  the  Father's  pardon.  Then  and 
there  I  received  it,  and  I  left  the  place  with  a  peace 
which  has  never  forsaken  me.  I  gave  up  my  business 
at  once  and  have  lived  for  his  service  ever  since.  I 
have  been  but  a  few  days  in  this  city.  Last  night  I 
visited  the  Hope  Mission,  and  the  Lord  told  me  I  must 
come  here  and  testify  what  he  had  done  for  me.  I 
have  not  been  in  this  building  for  many  years,  but  it 
seems  only  yesterday  that  I  left  it.  I  have  been  sit- 
ting in  the  pew  directly  opposite  the  one  once  occupied 
by  my  mother  and  myself,  and  I  feel  her  presence  to- 
day. I  could  not  resist  the  impulse  to  give  this  testi- 
mony.   The  Lord  sent  me  here." 

The  congregation  was  profoundly  impressed.  The 
rector  descended  from  the  chancel  and,  approaching 
the  speaker,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  bade  her  Godspeed. 
The  service  went  on.  At  its  conclusion  many  mem- 
bers of  the  congregation  shook  hands  with  the  stranger 
and  told  of  their  impressions.  A  stranger  might  have 
imagined  himself  in  a  Methodist  Episcopal  church,  so 
intense  was  the  feeling.  The  strange  visitor  departed 
with  a  sense  of  duty  done.  All  she  said  was :  "  I  feel 
that  the  Lord  Jesus  and  mother  have  been  here." 

Saviour,  More  than  Life 

Words  by  Fanny  J.  Crosby  Music  by  W.  H.  Doane 

"Saviour,  more  than  life  to  me, 
I  am  clinging,  clinging  close  to  Thee." 

Tune  preceded  words  in  this  instance.  It  was  in 
1875  that  Mr.  Doane  sent  the  tune  to  Fanny  Crosby, 
and  requested  her  to  write  a  hymn  entitled  "  Every 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  189 


day  and  hour/'  Her  response  in  the  form  of  this  hymn 
gave  the  blind  hymn-writer  great  comfort  and  filled 
her  heart  with  joy.  She  felt  sure  that  God  would 
bless  the  hymn  to  many  hearts.  Her  hope  has  been 
most  fully  verified,  for  millions  have  been  refreshed 
and  strengthened  as  they  have  sung  it.  At  the  sug- 
gestion of  Mr.  D.  W.  McWilliams,  who  was  superin- 
tendent of  Dr.  Cuyler's  Sunday-school  for  twenty-five 
years,  it  was  put  into  ''Gospel  Hymns." 

Scatter  Seeds  of  Kindness 

Words  by  Mrs.  Albert  Smith  Music  by  S.  J.  Vail 

"Let  us  gather  up  the  sunbeams. 
Lying  all  around  our  path." 

For  many  years  this  was  the  favorite  hymn  of 
Francis  Murphy,  the  great  temperance  lecturer,  and 
was  the  keynote  of  all  his  meetings.  I  had  the  pleas- 
ure of  attending  many  of  his  services  in  Chicago,  and 
have  seen  him  move  an  audience  to  tears  by  his  pa- 
thetic rendering  of  this  hymn.  It  is  believed  that  thou- 
sands of  drinking  men  have  been  saved  through  its 
instrumentality. 

I  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  the  author  of  this 
hymn  in  Illinois  in  1878,  and  was  surprised  to  learn 
that  she  herself  was  childless, — although  very  fond  of 
children,  as  shown  in  the  tender  expressions  in  the 
latter  portion  of  the  hymn : 

"  How  those  little  hands  remind  us, 
As  in  snowy  grace  they  lie, 
Not  to  scatter  thorns — but  roses — 
For  our  reaping  by  and  by." 


I  go  Sankey's  Story 


Shall  We  Meet  ? 

Words  by  Horace  L.  Hastings  Music  by  Elihu  S.  Rice 

''Shall  we  meet  beyond  the  river. 
Where  the  surges  cease  to  roll?" 

While  secretary  and  chorister  of  the  Baptist  Sun- 
day-school at  Logansport,  Mr.  Rice  composed  the 
music  of  this  song  and  sent  it  to  the  Rev.  Robert 
Lowry,  then  editor  of  the  musical  department  of  the 
Young  Reaper/'  a  Sunday-school  paper  published  in 
Philadelphia.  It  was  accepted  and  first  published  in 
that  periodical.  Years  passed  before  the  composer 
realized  its  popularity. 

The  first  notice  I  received,"  he  says,  "  of  the 
favorable  reception  of  *  Shall  we  meet '  by  the  musical 
public  was  from  Mr.  Sankey,  in  a  very  kind  letter  writ- 
ten in  August,  1879,  thirteen  years  after  its  first  pub- 
lication. While  music  has  been  written  for  those 
w^ords  by  a  number  of  eminent  musical  composers,  I 
have  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  my  music  has 
received  the  choice  and  approval  of  Mr.  Hastings,  the 
author  of  the  words.'' 

Shall  You?  Shall  I? 

Words  by  James  McGranahan  Music  by  James  McGranahan 

"Some  one  will  enter  the  pearly  gate 
By  and  by,  by  and  by." 

An  active  minister  in  the  West  in  his  boyhood 
attended  our  meetings  in  Madison  Square  Garden,  and 
he  says  that  his  soul  was  thrilled  by  the  singing  there. 
He  writes  to  me,  also,  of  this  personal  experience :  "  I 
was  passing  through  a  town  where  I  was  known.  At 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  191 


the  close  of  a  service  which  I  had  attended  the  min- 
ister asked  me  to  sing  a  solo.  Picking  up  *  Gospel 
Hymns/  I  sang, 

'  Some  one  will  enter  the  pearly  gate — 
By  and  by,  by  and  by.    .    .  . 
Shall  you?   Shall  I?' 

"  In  the  audience  was  a  well-educated  man,  clearly 
under  the  influence  of  liquor.  He  afterward  said  that 
he  forgot  or  failed  to  hear  the  very  able  sermon.  But 
he  heard  the  song ;  and  for  days  after  '  Shall  you  ? 
Shall  I  ? '  kept  ringing  in  his  ears,  until  he  finally  had 
to  give  his  heart  to  God.  He  is  now  a  faithful  min- 
ister in  the  Methodist  church.'* 

Singing  All  the  Time 

Words  by  E.  P.  Hammond  Music  by  George  C.  Stebbin* 

"  I  feel  like  singing  all  the  time, 
My  tears  are  wiped  away." 

One  day  in  a  children's  meeting  in  Utica,  New 
York,"  the  Rev.  E.  P.  Hammond  writes  me,  while  I 
was  explaining  how  Jesus  loved  us  and  gave  himself 
for  us,  I  noticed  a  bright-looking  girl  bursting  into 
tears.  She  remained  at  the  inquiry-meeting,  and  with 
others  was  soon  happy  in  the  love  of  Christ.  The  next 
day  she  handed  me  a  letter  of  which  this  is  a  part :  *  I 
think  I  have  found  the  dear  Jesus,  and  I  do  not  see 
how  I  could  have  rejected  him  so  long.  I  think  I  can 
sing  with  the  rest  of  those  who  have  found  him,  Jesus 
is  mine.  The  first  time  I  came  to  the  meetings  I  cried, 
but  now  I  feel  like  singing  all  the  time.'  This  prompted 
me  to  write  the  hymn,  but  I  had  no  thought  of  its  ever 


192  Sankey's  Story 


being  sung,  although  it  almost  seemed  as  if  I  could 
hear  her  singing : 

*  I  feel  like  singing  all  the  time, 

My  tears  are  wiped  away. 
For  Jesus  is  a  friend  of  mine, 
I'll  serve  him  every  day/ 

"  Mr.  Spurgeon  was  very  fond  of  this  hymn.  At 
the  first  meeting  in  his  building  one  of  his  deacons  said 
to  me,  *  This  Tabernacle  will  seat  six  thousand  grown 
people,  but  there  are  eight  thousand  crowded  into  it 
to-day/  Three  thousand  could  not  get  in  on  account 
of  the  crowd.  Every  child  had  one  of  our  hymn-books, 
and  all  united  in  singing  this  hymn  which  they  loved 
so  much.  It  has  been  sung  in  our  meetings  in  nearly 
every  state  in  the  Union,  and  translated  into  many  lan- 
guages. We  sang  it  in  our  daily  meetings  in  Jerusa- 
lem, near  where  Christ  was  crucified,  and  away  in 
Alaska,  two  thousand  miles  north  of  San  Francisco. 
Thousands  of  children  sang  it  in  Norway  and  Sweden, 
day  after  day. 

"  A  little  boy,  who  felt  himself  a  great  sinner  in 
not  having  loved  Jesus,  was  led  by  God's  spirit  to 
believe,  and  his  burden  was  gone.  Bright  smiles  took 
the  place  of  tears,  and  with  the  happy  throng  he  was 
soon  joining  in  the  song,  '  I  feel  like  singing  all  the 
time.'  Little  did  I  then  think  that  years  afterward  I 
would  find  that  same  boy  the  pastor  of  a  large  church 
in  Minneapolis,  rejoicing  that  so  many  of  his  own 
Sunday-school  were  able  to  join  in  the  same  hymn 
which  he  sang  when  his  heart  was  filled  with  a  new- 
found love  for  Christ.  It  was  largely  through  his  in- 
fluence that  during  one  week  of  our  meetings  in  Min- 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns 


193 


neapolis,  last  spring,  about  seven  hundred  confessed 
conversion.  I  received  in  one  day  at  Newark,  New 
Jersey,  more  than  two  hundred  letters  from  those  who 
had  just  professed  to  have  found  Christ  in  our  meet- 
ings. Many  of  those  young  converts,  in  giving  what 
they  believed  to  be  the  story  of  their  conversion,  often 
put  in  the  words,  *  Now  I  feel  like  singing  all  the 
time.' " 

Something  for  Jesus 

Words  by  S.  D.  Phelps  Music  by  Robert  Lowry 

"Saviour!  Thy  dying  love 
Thou  gavest  me." 

Professor  W.  F.  Sherwin  was  holding  a  Sunday- 
school  institute  in  Maine  on  one  occasion.  This  hymn 
was  used  in  the  exercises,  and  a  young  lawyer  was  so 
much  afifected  by  the  singing  of  the  third  verse  that 
it  was  the  means  of  changing  all  his  plans  for  life.  He 
consecrated  himself  to  Christ's  service,  and  thereafter 
devoted  himself  with  his  whole  heart  to  evangelistic 
work. 

A  large  family  joined  my  church  lately,"  says  a 
minister  in  Glasgow.  The  mother  told  me  that,  while 
a  stranger  in  the  city,  she  had  happened  to  drop  into 
our  chapel,  when  she  was  quite  overcome.  Her  heart 
was  lifted  up  as  the  people  sang,  *  Saviour !  Thy  dying 
love.' " 

Now  famous  in  many  lands,  this  hymn  was  first 
published  more  than  forty  years  ago  in  the  "  Watch- 


194  Sankey's  Story 


man  and  Reflector/'  and  from  there  it  was  copied  by 
various  other  religious  papers.  Dr.  Robert  Lowry  re- 
quested the  author,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Phelps,  to  furnish 
some  hymns  for  the  hymn-book,  "  Pure  Gold,"  which 
he  and  W.  H.  Doane  were  preparing,  and  among  others 
which  Mr.  Phelps  contributed  was  "  Saviour !  Thy 
dying  love.''  Dr.  Lowry  composed  for  it  the  tune  with 
which  it  will  always  be  associated.  On  the  author's 
seventieth  birthday — nine  years  before  his  death  in 
1895 — Mr.  Phelps  received  this  congratulation  from 
Dr.  Lowry: 

"  It  is  worth  living  seventy  years,  even  if  nothing 
comes  of  it  but  one  such  hymn  as  '  Saviour !  Thy  dying 
love.'  Happy  is  the  man  who  can  produce  one  song 
which  the  world  will  keep  on  singing  after  its  author 
shall  have  passed  away." 

Sometime  We'll  Understand 

Words  by  Maxwell  N.  Cornelius,  D.D.  Music  by  James  McGranahan 

"Not  now,  but  in  the  coming  years. 
It  may  be  in  the  better  land/' 

Mr.  Cornelius  was  brought  up  on  a  farm  in  my 
own  county  in  Pennsylvania.  He  left  farming  when 
he  came  of  age,  and  learned  the  trade  of  a  brick-mason. 
Later  he  became  a  contractor  in  Pittsburg.  In  erecting 
a  house  in  that  city  his  leg  was  broken.  The  physi- 
cians decided  that  it  would  have  to  be  amputated,  and 
they  gave  him  a  week  in  which  to  get  ready  for  the 
ordeal.  My  own  physician  was  sent  for  to  assist  at 
the  operation.  When  the  day  arrived  the  young  man 
said  that  he  was  ready,  but  asked  for  his  violin,  that 
he  might  play  one  more  tune — perhaps  the  last  one  he 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  195 


would  ever  play.  Whatever  the  tune  was,  the  melody 
was  so  sweet  that  it  caused  even  the  physicians  to 
weep.  He  stood  the  operation  well  and  came  out 
safely,  but  was  maimed  for  life.  He  now  decided  to 
go  to  college  and  get  an  education.  After  passing 
through  college  with  honor  he  concluded  to  become  a 
minister  of  the  gospel.  His  first  charge  was  at  Al- 
toona,  Pennsylvania,  but  on  account  of  his  wife's  health 
he  soon  removed  to  California,  locating  at  Pasa- 
dena, where  he  built  the  largest  Presbyterian  church 
in  that  place.  Many  who  had  subscribed  to  help  to 
pay  for  the  building  failed  in  business,  and  he  was 
left  to  meet  the  obligations  as  best  he  could.  But  in 
a  few  years  he  had  the  church  cleared  from  all  debt. 
Shortly  afterward  his  wife  died.  He  preached  the 
funeral  sermon  himself.  At  the  conclusion  he  quoted 
the  words  of  this  hymn,  which  he  had  composed 
shortly  before.  Both  the  words  of  the  hymn  and  the 
sermon  were  printed  in  a  Western  newspaper,  where 
Major  Whittle  found  them.  Impressed  by  their 
beauty,  he  cut  them  out  and  carried  them  in  his  Bible 
for  three  months  before  he  wrote  the  chorus : 

"Then  trust  in  God  through  all  thy  days; 

Fear  not!  for  He  doth  hold  thy  hand; 
Though  dark  thy  way,  still  sing  and  praise; 
Sometime,  sometime  we'll  understand." 

Soon  after  he  handed  the  words  to  his  friend, 
James  McGranahan,  who  composed  the  tune  to  which 
the  hymn  is  now  sung. 

While  Mr.  Moody  and  I  were  holding  meetings  in 
the  great  Convention  Hall  in  Washington,  in  1894,  one 


196  Sankefs  Story 


evening  he  requested  me  to  go  to  an  overflow  meeting 
in  the  Second  Presbyterian  Church.  I  sang  "  Some- 
time We'll  Understand  "  as  a  solo,  and  I  told  how 
Major  Whittle  had  found  it.  At  the  conclusion  of  the 
meeting  a  lady  came  forward  to  the  platform,  and  said 
"  That  hymn  was  written  by  my  pastor and  for  the 
first  time  I  learned  who  had  written  the  beautiful  words 
of  the  hymn  I  loved  so  much.  A  year  or  two  later  I 
sang  this  hymn  in  the  Church  of  the  Covenant  in 
Washington.  The  late  Secretary  of  State,  John  Hay, 
was  present.  He  was  much  moved  by  the  song,  and 
at  the  conclusion  of  the  service  came  forward  and 
thanked  me.  While  we  were  talking  a  young  lady 
with  her  husband  came  up  to  me  and  said  that  she  was 
the  daughter  of  Dr.  Cornelius,  the  author  of  the  hymn, 
and  hoped  that  God  would  continually  bless  my  singing 
of  the  song. 

At  one  of  our  crowded  meetings  in  the  Free  As- 
sembly Hall  in  Edinburgh,  Scotland,  Mr.  Moody  called 
to  the  platform  Lord  Overtoun,  who  changed  the  meet- 
ing into  a  memorial  service  for  the  Prince  of  Wales' 
eldest  son,  the  Duke  of  Clarence,  who  had  recently 
died  in  England.  After  a  number  of  addresses  had 
been  made  by  ministers  and  others.  Lord  Overtoun 
asked  a  member  of  my  choir,  Miss  Jane  Darling,  if  she 
had  any  song  suitable  to  the  occasion.  I  had  gone  to 
Dunfermline  to  commence  meetings  there.  Miss  Dar- 
ling took  her  seat  at  my  little  organ  and  sung  in  the 
most  touching  and  pathetic  manner  the  hymn,  "  Some- 
time We'll  Understand."  At  the  conclusion  of  the 
meeting  Lord  Overtoun  sent  a  dispatch  to  the  Princess 
of  Wales,  including  in  the  message  three  of  the  verses 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  197 


of  the  hymn.  The  same  evening  he  received  a  dispatch 
from  the  Princess,  thanking  him  for  the  verses.  A 
few  days  later  Miss  DarHng  had  the  hymn  beautifully 
engrossed  upon  parchment  and  forwarded  it  to  the 
Princess. 

Stand  Up  for  Jesus 

Words  by  George  Duffield  Music  by  G.  J.  Webb 

"Stand  up!  stand  up  for  Jesus! 
Ye  soldiers  of  the  cross/* 

In  the  "  Great  Work  of  God  of  1858,  in  Phila- 
delphia, the  Rev.  Dudley  Tyng  was  the  recognized 
leader.  While  standing  by  a  piece  of  farm  machinery 
on  his  place,  the  sleeve  of  his  coat  became  entangled 
in  the  gearing.  His  arm  was  drawn  into  the  machin- 
ery and  torn  off,  and  he  died  soon  after.  In  the  prime 
of  his  life  he  was  taken  away  from  the  direction  of  that 
great  revival  movement.  But  his  dying  message  to  his 
associates  in  the  work,  Stand  up  for  Jesus,"  suppHed 
the  theme  for  this  hymn.  It  was  written  by  the  Rev. 
George  Duffield,  and  was  read  at  the  close  of  a  sermon 
which  he  delivered  on  the  Sunday  following  the  death 
of  his  friend.  Set  to  the  tune  composed  by  Mr.  Webb, 
this  hymn  has  become  famous  and  useful. 

Substitution 

Words  by  Mrs.  A.  R.  Cousin  Music  by  Ira  D.  Sankey 

"O  Christ,  what  burdens  bowed  Thy  head! 
Our  load  was  laid  on  Thee." 

Written  in  Melrose,  Scotland,  by  the  author  of 
the  immortal  poem,  Immanuel's  Land,'^  this  hymn 
was  sent  to  me  by  a  minister  in  Dublin ;  and  in  the  let- 


198  Sankey's  Story 


ter  conveying  the  verses  he  remarked :  "  It  is  said  of 
you  that  you  sing  the  Gospel,  and  I  am  sure  that  if 
you  will  sing  the  enclosed  there  will  be  no  question 
as  to  the  truth  of  that  assertion/'  I  then  wrote  the 
music  and  sang  it  in  one  of  Mr.  Moody's  meetings, 
where  it  was  blessed  to  the  saving  of  two  persons  the 
first  time  it  was  sung,  according  to  their  own  testimony. 

A  young  officer  in  the  British  army  turned  away 
in  horror  from  the  doctrine  of  this  hymn.  His  pride 
revolted,  his  self-righteousness  rose  in  rebellion,  and 
he  said :  He  would  be  a  coward  indeed  who  would 
go  to  heaven  at  the  cost  of  another! ''  As  the  years 
rolled  away  this  man  rose  to  distinction  and  high  rank 
in  the  army,  and  he  also  learned  wisdom.  In  his  last 
hours,  as  he  lay  on  his  death-bed,  he  repeatedly  begged 
those  near  him  to  sing  O  Christ,  what  burdens 
bowed  Thy  head calling  it,  "  My  hymn,  my  hymn !  " 

A  gunner  of  the  royal  artillery  was  attending  the 
Old  Soldiers'  Home  in  Woolwich  during  the  spring  of 
1886.  The  chief  attraction  to  him  at  first  was  the 
night-school.  From  this  he  was  eventually  led  to  join 
the  Bible-class  and  attend  the  Sunday  evening  service 
in  the  Hall.  Seeing  that  he  looked  very  unhappy  and 
that  he  lingered  after  the  meeting,  one  night,  a  worker 
asked  him  if  anything  was  troubling  him.  The  tears 
came  to  his  eyes  at  once,  and  he  said :  "  I  want  to  be  a 
Christian,  but  I  am  afraid  that  I  am  too  bad."  He  then 
told  how  on  the  previous  Sunday  evening,  when  this 
hymn  was  sung,  he  was  so  overpowered  by  the 
thought  of  what  the  Lord  had  endured  for  our  sins 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  199 


that  after  the  first  verse  he  could  not  sing.  The  solemn 
words  were  fixed  in  his  memory,  and  had  troubled  him 
all  the  week,  until  he  came  to  the  great  Burden-bearer. 

Sweet  By-and-By 

Words  by  S.  Fillmore  Bennett  Music  by  Joseph  P  Webster 

"There's  a  land  that  is  fairer  than  day, 
And  by  faith  we  can  see  it  afar." 

Mr.  Bennett,  the  author  of  this  world-famed  hymn, 
has  this  to  say  about  its  origin : 

"  In  1861  I  became  a  resident  of  the  village  of 
Elkhorn,  Wisconsin,  the  home  of  the  composer,  J.  P. 
Webster ;  and  shortly  after  became  associated  with 
him  in  the  production  of  sheet  music  (songs)  and  other 
musical  works.  In  the  summer  or  fall  of  the  year 
1867  commenced  work  on  '  The  Signet  Ring.'  One  , 
of  the  songs  written  for  that  book  was  '  Sweet  By- 
and-By."  Mr.  Webster,  like  many  musicians,  was  of 
an  exceedingly  nervous  and  sensitive  nature,  and  sub- 
ject to  periods  of  depression,  in  which  he  looked  upon 
the  dark  side  of  all  things  in  life.  I  had  learned  his 
peculiarities  so  well  that  on  meeting  him  I  could  tell 
at  a  glance  if  he  was  in  one  of  his  melancholy  moods, 
and  I  found  that  I  could  rouse  him  from  them  by  giv- 
ing him  a  new  song  or  hymn  to  work  on.  On  such  an 
occasion  he  came  into  my  place  of  business,  walked 
down  to  the  stove,  and  turned  his  back  to  me  without 
speaking.  I  was  at  my  desk  writing.  Presently  I 
said : 

"  *  Webster,  what  is  the  matter  now  ?  ' 
"  '  It  is  no  matter,'  he  replied ; '  it  will  be  all  right 
by  and  by ! ' 


200  Sankey's  Story 


The  idea  of  the  hymn  came  to  me  like  a  flash  of 
sunlight,  and  I  replied  :  *  The  sweet  by.  and  by !  Would 
that  not  make  a  good  hymn  ? ' 

"  '  Maybe  it  would/  said  he  indifferently. 

"  Turning  to  the  desk  I  penned  the  three  verses 
and  the  chorus  as  fast  as  I  could  write.  In  the  mean- 
time two  friends,  Mr.  N.  H.  Carswell  and  Mr.  S.  E. 
Bright,  had  come  in.  I  handed  the  hymn  to  Mr.  Web- 
ster. As  he  read  it  his  eye  kindled,  and  his  whole  de- 
meanor changed.  Stepping  to  the  desk,  he  began 
writing  the  notes  in  a  moment.  Presently  he  re- 
quested Mr.  Bright  to  hand  him  his  violin,  and  then 
he  played  the  melody.  In  a  few  moments  more  he 
had  the  notes  for  the  four  parts  of  the  chorus  jotted 
down.  I  think  it  was  not  over  thirty  minutes  from 
the  time  I  took  my  pen  to  write  the  words  before  the 
two  gentlemen,  Mr.  Webster  and  I  were  singing  the 
hymn  in  the  same  form  in  which  it  afterward  appeared 
in  'The  Signet  Ring.'  While  singing  it  Mr.  R.  R. 
Crosby  came  in.  After  listening  awhile,  with  tears  in 
his  eyes,  he  uttered  the  prediction :  '  That  hymn  is 
immortal.'  I  think  it  was  used  in  pubHc  shortly  after, 
for  within  two  weeks  children  on  the  streets  were  sing- 
ing it." 

"  Next  year  the  publishers  of  *  The  Signet  Ring ' 
heralded  its  advent  by  distributing  a  large  number  of 
circulars  upon  which  selections  from  the  work  were 
printed,  among  them  '  Sweet  By-and-By.'  These  cir- 
culars first  brought  the  hymn  to  the  notice  of  the  pub- 
lic, and  created  the  principal  demand  for  the  book. 
Toward  the  close  of  that  year  the  hymn  was  published 
in  sheet-music  form.    It  is  now  in  numerous  collec- 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  201 


tions  of  vocal  music  in  America,  and,  as  a  newspaper 
account  says,  '  It  is  translated  into  various  foreign 
languages  and  sung  in  every  land  under  the  sun.' 

"  Webster,  Crosby  and  Carswell  are  dead.  S.  E. 
Bright,  of  Fort  Atkinson,  Wisconsin,  and  myself  are 
the  only  remaining  living  witnesses  to  the  birth  of 
*  Sweet  By-and-By.' 

Sweet  Peace,  the  Gift  of  God*s  Love 

Words  by  Peter  P.  Bilhorn  Music  by  Peter  P.  Bilhom 

"There  comes  to  my  heart  one  sweet  strain, 
A  glad  and  a  joyous  refrain." 

The  author  of  this  well-known  and  popular  hymn, 
a  gifted  evangelist  and  Gospel  singer,  was  born  in 
Mendota,  Illinois,  in  1861.  His  father  was  killed  near 
the  close  of  the  war,  and  at  eight  years  of  age  he  had 
to  leave  school  to  help  his  mother.  Though  the  edu- 
cation of  books  was  thus  denied  him,  yet  through  won- 
derful ways  of  Providence  he  has  been  able  to  read 
in  the  great  book  of  human  nature,  and  his  knowledge 
of  men  is  as  great  as  his  influence  and  power  for  good 
over  them.  At  the  age  of  fifteen  he  moved  with  his 
family  to  Chicago,  where  his  voice  was  a  great  attrac- 
tion in  concert-halls  and  among  worldly  comrades. 
He  was  standing  by  a  piano  in  a  German  concert-hall, 
one  day  in  1881,  when  a  Christian  worker  entered  and 
persuaded  him  to  attend  one  of  the  revival  meetings 
in  Mr.  Moody's  church  being  conducted  by  Dr.  Pen- 
tecost and  Mr.  Stebbins.  He  was  interested,  and  for 
twelve  nights  he  attended  regularly.  On  the  twelfth 
night  he  heard  a  sermon  from  the  words,  Christ  hath 
redeemed  us,''  and  he  gave  his  heart  to  God.  Shortly 


202  Sankey  s  Story 


afterward  he  engaged  in  mission  work  in  all  parts  of 
Chicago,  wherever  and  whenever  he  could  make  him- 
self useful,  at  the  same  time  studying  music  under  Pro- 
fessor George  F.  Root.  After  tw^o  years  he  went  to 
work  among  the  cowboys  in  the  West,  where  he  had 
many  thrilling  experiences.  Since  then  Mr.  Bilhorn 
has  devoted  his  talents  entirely  to  the  work  of  singing 
the  Gospel,  and  to-day  he  is  ranked  among  the  leaders 
of  evangelistic  work  in  song. 

Take  Me  as  I  Am 

Words  by  Eliza  H.  Hamilton  Music  by  Ira  D.  Sankey 

*7esus,  my  Lord,  to  Thee  I  cry; 
Unless  Thou  help  me  I  must  die.'* 

Years  ago,  while  revival  meetings  were  being 
held  in  one  of  the  large  towns  in  Scotland,  a  young 
girl  became  anxious  about  her  spiritual  condition.  Re- 
turning from  one  of  the  meetings,  she  went  to  her 
own  minister  and  asked  him  how  she  might  be  saved. 

"  Ah,  lassie,''  he  said,  "  don't  be  alarmed !  Just 
read  your  Bible  and  say  your  prayers,  and  you  will 
be  all  right." 

But  the  poor,  illiterate  girl  cried  out :  O  Min- 
ister, I  canna  read,  I  canna  pray!  Lord  Jesus,  take 
me  as  I  am !  " 

In  this  way  the  girl  became  a  follower  of  Christ  ; 
and  a  lady  who  heard  of  the  girl's  experience  wrote 
this  hymn,  Take  Me  as  I  Am."  I  found  the  verses 
in  a  religious  newspaper,  and  set  them  to  the  simple 
music  by  which  they  are  now  most  generally  known. 
At  the  same  time  Mr.  Stebbins  also  found  the  verses 
and  set  them  to  music,  and  he  sent  them  to  me  at  the 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  203 


same  time  that  I  was  sending  my  tune  for  the  same 
words  to  him.  In  Gospel  Hymns  "  both  tunes  are 
pubHshed. 

A  minister  in  England  writes  to  me  about  a  Chris- 
tian woman,  a  shoemaker's  wife,  who  had  a  lodger  that 
was  an  obstinate  unbeliever.  The  good  woman  often 
tried  to  induce  him  to  go  to  meetings,  but  in  vain. 
Tracts  which  she  placed  on  the  table  in  his  room  she 
found  crushed  on  the  floor.  She  would  smooth  them 
out  and  again  place  them  so  as  to  attract  his  attention, 
but  he  would  read  nothing  but  his  novels  and  news- 
papers. One  spring  the  old  man  fell  ill  with  bron- 
chitis. The  good  woman  acted  as  his  nurse,  for  he 
had  no  relatives  who  cared  for  him.  She  used  the 
opportunity,  often  speaking  to  him  about  his  soul  and 
reading  the  Word  of  God ;  but  she  could  make  no  im- 
pression upon  him.  One  day  she  was  reading  the 
hymn  '  Jesus,  my  Lord,  to  Thee  I  cry,'  and  when  she 
came  to  the  refrain,  the  old  man  called  out  to  her 
sharply :  '  That's  not  in  the  book ! '  The  woman  an- 
swered, '  Why,  yes,  it  is.'  He  declared  again  that  he 
did  not  believe  it  was  in  the  book.  The  good  woman 
told  him  that  he  could  read  it  for  himself.  He  asked 
for  his  glasses,  and  read  with  wonder  and  amazement, 
again  and  again,  '  My  only  plea — Christ  died  for  me ! 
oh,  take  me  as  I  am.'  A  few  weeks  afterward  he  said 
to  the  woman  one  morning,  '  I  am  going  home  to-day, 
and  I  am  so  happy,  so  happy!*  In  an  hour  or  two  he 
passed  away,  repeating  these  words  to  the  last." 

"  One  afternoon  when  visiting  the  Royal  Infirm- 


204  Sankey's  Story 


ary/'  a  missionary  in  England  writes,  "  I  found  a 
young  girl  very  ill  and  without  any  prospect  of  recov- 
ery. I  sat  down  by  her  and  read  the  hymn,  '  Jesus, 
my  Lord,  to  Thee  I  cry/  She  listened  very  attentively, 
but  I  did  not  know  until  the  following  week,  when  I 
visited  her  again,  what  a  deep  impression  it  had  made 
upon  her.  On  this  second  occasion  I  was  told  that 
she  was  much  worse.  Hearing  I  was  there,  she  asked 
her  mother  to  tell  me  that  she  wanted  very  much  to 
see  me.  When  I  went  to  her  she  leaned  forward  and, 
wath  an  eagerness  which  surprised  me,  repeated  the 
words  : '  My  only  plea — Christ  died  for  me !  Oh,  take 
me  as  I  am.'  These  comforting  lines  had  been  con- 
stantly on  her  lips  during  this  last  week  of  her  life. 
That  night  the  Lord  took  her  home." 

A  party  of  policemen  had  gathered  in  a  drawing- 
room  in  the  West  End  of  London.  One  was  there 
who  had  been  persuaded  by  his  Christian  comrades  to 
attend  for  the  first  time  a  meeting  of  The  Christian 
Policemen's  Association.  He  went  unwillingly  and 
rather  late,  and  did  not  expect  to  care  for  the  meeting. 
But  soon  after  he  had  entered  the  room  a  lady.  Miss 
Beauchamp,  sang  "  Take  me  as  I  am  "  as  a  solo.  The 
repeated  refrain  set  him  to  thinking.  As  he  was?  He 
had  led  a  rough  life,  first  as  a  blue- jacket  and  then  as 
a  policeman.  He  could  not  well  be  more  wretched  and 
miserable  than  he  was  that  night,  with  a  load  of  sins 
upon  him  and  a  dark,  dreary  future  to  look  forward  to. 
He  had  never  thought  that  Jesus  would  take  him  as  he 
was.  He  had  always  thought  that  he  must  be  much 
better  first,  and  had  often  tried  to  make  himself  better; 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  205 


but  it  had  been  a  miserable  failure.  Now  the  words, 
"  Take  me  as  I  am/'  sounded  over  and  over  again  in 
his  ears,  and  in  his  heart  he  repeated  them,  Lord, 
take  me  as  I  am."  He  left  before  the  end  of  the  meet- 
ing, and  so  it  was  not  until  the  following  month  that 
his  friends  heard  of  the  great  change  that  had  come 
over  him.  Since  that  time  his  delight  has  been  to 
proclaim  the  love  of  God  as  opportunity  offered,  on 
the  street  or  to  his  comrades,  seeking  to  turn  other 
lost  ones  to  the  path  of  life. 

While  Mr.  Moody  and  I  were  holding  meetings 
at  Plymouth,  England,  Professor  Henry  Drummond, 
who  was  assisting  us,  became  very  much  interested  in 
an  infidel  who  came  to  the  services — laboring  with 
him  for  several  days  and  visiting  him  in  his  home, 
twenty  miles  distant,  but  making  no  impression  on 
him.  Near  the  close  of  the  mission  the  infidel  came 
again.  On  reaching  the  building,  which  was  located 
inside  the  barrack  grounds,  he  found  the  door  closed 
and  the  building  full.  And  while  he  was  standing  on 
the  green  sward  outside  he  heard  the  choir  sing  "  Take 
me  as  I  am.''  He  told  Professor  Drummond  after- 
ward that  God  used  this  simple  hymn  to  lead  him  into 
the  Shepherd's  fold. 

Tell  It  Out 

Words  by  Frances  R.  Havergal  Music  by  Ira  D.  Sankey 

"Tell  it  out  among  the  nations  that  the  Lord  is  King; 
Tell  it  out!    Tell  it  out!" 

Miss  Havergal's  sister  Maria  bears  record  that 
this  hymn  was  written  in  England  in  1872,  when  the 
author  was  unable  to  go  to  church  one  snowy  morning. 


2o6  Sankey's  Story 


She  asked  for  her  prayer-book,  always  liking  to  follow 
the  services  of  the  day.  On  the  return  of  her  brother- 
in-law,  Mr.  Shaw,  from  church,  he  heard  her  touch 
upon  the  piano. 

"  Why,  Frances,  I  thought  you  were  upstairs !  " 
Yes,  but  I  had  my  prayer-book ;  and  in  the 
Psalms  for  to-day  I  read,  '  Tell  it  out  among  the 
heathen  that  the  Lord  is  king.'  I  thought,  '  What  a 
splendid  first  line ! '  and  then  words  and  music  came 
rushing  in  to  me.    There !  it's  all  written  out." 

I  found  Miss  Ilavergal's  tune  rather  difficult  to 
sing,  and  therefore  arranged  the  one  which  is  now 
found  in  Gospel  Hymns,"  in  Sacred  Songs  and 
Solos,"  and  in  the  new  Methodist  Episcopal  hymnal. 

Tell  Me  the  Old,  Old  Story 

Words  by  Miss  Kate  Hankey  Music  by  W.  H.  Doane 

"  Tell  me  the  old,  old  story, 
Of  unseen  things  above." 

This  excellent  hymn  by  Miss  Hankey,  of  London, 
has  been  translated  into  many  languages,  and  has  been 
set  to  several  tunes.  Dr.  Doane  has  this  to  say  re- 
garding the  music  by  which  it  has  become  popular, 
and  the  occasion  on  which  he  composed  it :  In  1867 
I  was  attending  the  International  Convention  of  the 
Young  Men's  Christian  Association,  in  Montreal. 
Among  those  present  was  Major-General  Russell,  then 
in  command  of  the  English  forces  during  the  Fenian 
excitement.  He  arose  in  the  meeting  and  recited  the 
words  of  this  song  from  a  sheet  of  foolscap  paper — 
tears  streaming  down  his  bronzed  cheeks  as  he  read. 
I  wrote  the  music  for  the  song  one  hot  afternoon  while 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  207 


on  the  stage-coach  between  the  Glen  Falls  House  and 
the  Crawford  House  in  the  White  Mountains.  That 
evening  we  sung  it  in  the  parlors  of  the  hotel.  We 
thought  it  pretty,  although  we  scarcely  anticipated  the 
popularity  which  was  subsequently  accorded  it." 

That  Will  be  Heaven  for  Me 

Words  by  P.  P.  Bliss  Music  by  James  McGranahan 

"  I  know  not  the  hour  when  my  Lord  will  come 
To  take  me  away  to  His  own  dear  home." 

Elizabeth  Stuart  Phelps'  "The  Gates  Ajar/' 
which  aroused  so  much  criticism  a  generation  ago, 
suggested  to  Mr.  Bliss  the  need  of  this  hymn.  The 
Scripture  teaching  that  we  shall  be  with  the  Lord  " 
he  deemed  sufficient  for  spiritual  contentment,  off- 
setting the  I  know  not  "  of  speculation  by  the  "  I 
know  of  faith.  Mr.  McGranahan  was  visiting  Mr. 
Bliss  at  that  time.  Bliss  handed  the  words  to  him, 
asking  what  he  could  get  for  a  tune.  McGranahan 
worked  upon  it  a  long  time  without  success,  making 
harmonies  and  trying  to  satisfy  himself  with  some- 
thing that  would  properly  express  the  words.  When 
supper-time  came  he  did  not  care  to  eat.  At  bedtime 
they  all  went  to  their  rooms,  leaving  him  in  the  parlor 
at  the  piano.  Finally,  dissatisfied  with  the  result,  he 
threw  himself  on  the  floor  and  fell  into  a  doze.  Sud- 
denly he  awoke,  and  the  tune,  chorus  and  all,  had 
come — different  from  the  harmonies  he  had  worked 
upon.  When  he  sang  it  to  Bliss  in  the  morning  he  was 
delighted  with  it,  and  immediately  adopted  it  for  use. 

A  wealthy  Quaker  lady  heard  this  hymn  in 


2o8  Sankey  s  Story 


Newcastle-on-Tyne,  sung  in  connection  with  Mr. 
Moody's  lecture  upon  Heaven/'  She  was  so  much 
impressed  by  it  that  she  went  home  and  induced  her 
husband  to  attend  the  meetings.  She  soon  became  one 
of  the  most  successful  workers  in  our  subsequent  meet- 
ings there  and  in  London,  taking  lodgings  near  so  as 
to  more  efficiently  work  in  the  inquiry-meetings. 

At  the  time  Mr.  Bliss  and  his  wife  were  lost  in  the 
railroad  accident  at  Ashtabula  I  was  living  in  a  hotel 
in  Chicago.  I  had  engaged  a  room  near  mine  for 
him,  and  was  awaiting  his  arrival,  when  a  friend  came 
into  my  room  and,  putting  his  hand  on  my  shoulder, 
said,  Bliss  is  dead."  The  next  Sunday  we  held  a 
great  memorial  service  in  the  Tabernacle,  to  give  ex- 
pression to  our  sorrow.  While  I  was  singing  "  That 
will  be  Heaven  for  Me  "  as  a  solo,  the  two  small 
crowns  of  flowers  which  had  been  placed  in  front  of  the 
organ  on  the  platform  were  taken  away,  as  it  was  dis- 
covered that  their  two  little  children,  Paul  and  George, 
who  were  supposed  to  have  been  lost  with  their  par- 
ents, had  been  left  at  home  at  Towanda,  Pennsylvania, 
and  were  safe. 

The  Child  of  a  King 

Words  by  Hattie  E.  Buell  Music  by  John  B.  Sumner 

"  My  Father  is  rich  in  houses  and  lands. 
He  holdeth  the  wealth  of  the  world  in  His  hands! " 

Mr.  Peter  P.  Bilhorn  relates  the  following  inci- 
dent in  connection  with  this  hymn,  which  happened 
when  he  was  engaged  in  evangelistic  work  among  the 
cowboys  in  the  West,  in  1883.    "  We  had  started  up 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  209 


the  Missouri  River  for  Bismarck,  and  on  Sunday  we 
stopped  at  a  new  town,  named  Blunt,  to  unload  some 
freight.  A  crowd  of  men  and  boys  came  down  to  the 
wharf.  I  took  my  little  organ,  went  on  the  wharf- 
boat,  and  sang  a  few  songs — among  others  the  glorious 
hymn,  '  Fm  the  child  of  a  King.'  I  thought  noth- 
ing more  of  the  occasion  until  long  afterward,  when 
I  sang  the  same  song  in  Mr.  Moody's  church  in  Chi- 
cago. Then  a  man  in  the  back  part  of  the  house  arose, 
and  said  in  a  trembling  voice :  '  Two  years  ago  I  heard 
that  song  at  Blunt,  Dakota;  I  was  then  an  unsaved 
man,  but  that  song  set  me  to  thinking,  and  I  decided 
to  accept  Christ,  and  I  am  now  studying  for  the 
ministry.' " 

The  Christian's    Good-Night '' 

Words  by  Sarah  Doudney  Music  by  Ira  D.  Sankey 

Sleep  on,  beloved,  sleep,  and  take  thy  rest; 
Lay  down  thy  head  upon  thy  Saviour's  breast." 

Each  member  of  the  Masonic  Quartet  of  Pitts- 
burgh recently  received  a  check  and  a  note  of  thanks 
for  singing  at  the  funeral  of  Captain  S.  S.  Brown. 
An  unusual  story  was  also  made  public  thereby.  *'In 
the  last  hours  of  the  turf  king's  life,''  one  of  the  daily 
papers  says,  he  had  an  interval  in  which  his  mind 
was  clear.  He  called  his  daughter-in-law  and  asked 
if  she  would  take  on  herself  the  task  of  seeing  that 
*  The  Christian's  Good-night '  was  sung  at  his  funeral ; 
and  he  told  her,  in  a  disjointed  way,  of  a  dream  from 
which  he  had  just  awakened.  He  had  thought  him- 
self dead,  and  there  were  four  ministers  taking  part 
in  his  funeral.    He  named  the  ministers  and  said  that 


2IO  Sankey' s  Story 


one  of  them  had  broken  down  while  making  an  ad- 
dress, and  that  another,  naming  this  minister  also,  had 
taken  up  the  address.  Captain  Brown  said  that  he 
awoke  as  all  were  singing  '  The  Christian's  Good- 
night,* and  that  he  had  joined  with  them  in  the  sing- 
ing. The  dying  man  smiled  faintly  at  the  picture 
he  drew,  but  begged  his  daughter-in-law  to  remember 
her  promise." 

The  words  of  this  hymn  were  occasioned  by  the 
death  of  a  friend.  They  were  handed  to  me  at  Bris- 
tol, England.  I  wrote  the  music  soon  afterward,  and 
sang  it  at  the  funeral  of  Charles  H.  Spurgeon,  the 
great  London  preacher.  It  has  since  become  very 
useful  on  two  continents  as  a  funeral  hymn. 

The  Cross  of  Jesus 

Words  by  Elizabeth  Clephane  Music  by  Ira  D.  Sankey 

"  Beneath  the  cross  of  Jesus 
I  fain  would  take  my  stand." 

I  composed  the  music  to  this  hymn  in  the  home 
of  my  dear  friend.  Dr.  Thomas  Barnardo,  whose 
death  is  announced  through  the  public  press  just  at 
the  time  I  am  writing  this  note.  The  author  of  the 
hymn,  Elizabeth  Clephane,  also  wrote  the  widely- 
known  hymn,  The  Ninety  and  Nine,"  and  these  two 
were  her  only  hymns. 

The  first  time  this  hymn  was  sung  is  still  fresh 
in  my  memory.  The  morning  after  I  had  composed 
the  music  the  Rev.  W.  H.  Aitkin  was  to  speak  at  our 
mission  in  the  great  Bow  Road  Hall,  in  London,  Mr. 
Moody  having  made  an  arrangement  to  speak  at  Her 
Majesty's  Theater.    It  was  a  lovely  morning,  and  a 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  211 


great  gathering  had  assembled  at  the  meeting,  which 
was  held  at  eight  o'clock.  Before  the  sermon  I  sang 
"  Beneath  the  cross  of  Jesus  "  as  a  solo ;  and  as  in  the 
case  of  "The  Ninety  and  Nine/'  much  blessing  came 
from  its  use  for  the  first  time.  With  eyes  filled  with 
tears,  and  deeply  moved,  the  preacher  said  to  the  audi- 
ence: ''Dear  friends,  I  had  intended  to  speak  to  you 
this  morning  upon  work  for  the  Master,  but  this  new 
hymn  has  made  such  an  impression  on  my  heart,  and 
evidently  upon  your  own,  that  I  will  defer  my  proposed 
address  and  speak  to  you  on  '  The  Cross  of  Jesus/  " 
The  sermon  was  one  of  the  most  powerful  I  have  ever 
heard,  and  many  souls  that  morning  accepted  the  mes- 
sage of  grace  and  love.  Some  years  later  Mr.  Aitkin 
held  many  successful  meetings  in  New  York  and  other 
cities  in  this  country,  and  he  often  used  this  hymn  as  a 
solo. 

An  odd  incident  occurred  in  connection  with  Mr. 
Aitkin's  use  of  this  hymn  in  St.  Paul's  Church,  at 
Broadway  and  Wall  street,  the  money  center  of 
America.  A  gentleman,  having  heard  this  piece  sung 
frequently  by  great  congregations  of  business  men 
and  Wall  street  brokers  in  St.  Paul's  Church,  called 
upon  the  publishers  of  the  small  book  of  words  which 
had  been  distributed  in  the  church,  and  said  that  he 
**  wished  to  secure  that  beautiful  English  tune  which 
Mr.  Aitkin  used  so  much  in  his  meetings."  When  he 
was  told  that  he  could  find  it  in  any  copy  of  "  Gospel 
Hymns  "  he  became  quite  indignant,  and  insisted  that 
it  was  a  fine  classic  which  the  great  preacher  had 
brought  with  him  from  England — nothing  like  the 
Moody  and  Sankey  trash!    Having  secured  a  copy 


212  Sa7ikey  s  Story 


of  ]\Ir.  Aitkin's  hymn-book  containing  the  fine  Eng- 
lish tune  to  the  beautiful  words  of  Beneath  the 
cross  of  Jesus/'  he  went  away  happy,  but  only  to  find 
that  it  was  wTitten  by  the  author  of  the  music  to  The 
Ninety  and  Xine/' 

The  Gate  Ajar  for  Me 

Words  by  Mrs.  Lydia  Baxter  Music  by  S.  J.  Vail 

"  There  is  a  gate  that  stands  ajar, 
And  through  its  portals  gleaming." 

Mrs.  Lydia  Baxter,  born  in  Petersburg,  New 
York,  in  1809,  was  an  invalid  for  many  years.  But 
her  interest  in  the  religious  welfare  of  those  around 
her  was  manifested  in  many  ways.  She  wrote  There 
is  a  gate  that  stands  ajar  about  three  years  before 
her  death  in  Xew^  York  City  in  1874,  when  she  was 
considerably  past  the  sixty-year  mark. 

In  our  meetings  in  Great  Britain,  1873-74,  this 
hymn  was  much  used.  It  was  sung  at  the  watch-night 
service  in  1873,  the  night  before  New  Year's,  in  the 
Free  Assembly  Hall  of  Edinburgh.  A  young  lady 
who  was  present — Maggie  Lindsay,  of  Aberdeen, 
Scotland — was  much  impressed  by  the  hymn,  and 
those  seated  by  her  side  heard  her  exclaim,  "'O,  heav- 
enly Father,  is  it  true  that  the  gate  is  standing  ajar 
for  me?  If  it  is  so,  I  will  go  in."  That  night  she 
became  a  disciple  of  the  Lord  Jesus.  The  next  day 
she  called  on  her  pastor,  the  Rev.  J.  H.  Wilson,  min- 
ister of  the  Barclay  Church,  and  told  him  of  her  de- 
cision. He  was  greatly  pleased,  and  advised  her  to 
tell  her  school  companions  of  her  experience.  This 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  2 1 3 


she  did,  and  succeeded  in  leading  several  of  them  into 
the  light.  Scarcely  a  month  later,  on  January  28, 
Maggie  took  a  train  for  her  home,  but  she  never 
reached  there  alive.  At  Manual  Junction  a  collision 
took  place  between  a  mineral  train  and  the  one  on 
which  she  was  riding.  A  number  of  passengers  were 
killed,  and  Maggie,  all  crushed  and  broken,  was  found 
in  the  wreck.  In  one  of  her  hands  was  a  copy  of 
Sacred  Songs  and  Solos,"  opened  at  her  favorite 
hymn,  "  There  is  a  gate  that  stands  ajar,''  the  page  of 
which  was  stained  with  her  heart's  blood.  She  was 
carried  into  a  cottage  near  the  station,  where  she  lin- 
gered a  few  days  and  was  frequently  heard  to  sing 
on  her  dying  couch  the  chorus  of  the  hymn  so  dear 
to  her,    For  me,  for  me !  was  left  ajar  for  me !  " 

In  commemoration  of  this  event,  which  touched 
me  deeply,  I  wrote  my  first  hymn,  Home  at  last," 
which  I  also  set  to  music. 

An  affecting  incident  was  related  by  one  of  the 
colporteurs  of  the  Christian  Colportage  Association 
for  England.  I  called  at  a  house  in  B — ,  where 
lived  two  aged  people  who  were  invalids.  I  had  called 
several  times  before,  but  could  never  sell  them  any 
books  or  command  their  attention  to  hear  about  good 
things.  On  this  occasion  I  began  to  sing,  '  There  is 
a  gate  that  stands  ajar.'  When  I  came  to  the  chorus, 
'  Oh,  depth  of  mercy,'  I  saw  a  tear  in  the  old  lady's 
eye,  and  I  stopped.  But  she  said :  '  Go  on ;  that  is  a 
nice  song.'  I  continued,  but  before  I  had  finished 
she  burst  into  tears,  asking,  '  Is  that  mercy  for  me  ? ' 
I  then  talked  to  them  both  about  Jesus  and  prayed 


214  Sankey's  Story 


with  them.  They  bought  the  hymn-book  containing 
the  song,  and  earnestly  begged  me  to  come  again  as 
soon  as  possible.  I  have  visited  them  every  month. 
Last  week,  when  I  called  I  found  the  poor  woman 
dying ;  but  when  her  husband  told  her  I  had  come,  she 
said :  '  I  want  to  see  him,  tell  him  to  come  in.'  She 
could  hardly  speak,  but  she  said  in  a  whisper :  '  Do 
sing  my  favorite.'  I  knew  which  one  she  meant,  and 
sang  very  softly, 

'Oh,  depth  of  mercy!  can  it  be 
That  gate  was  left  ajar  for  me?' 

She  tried  to  join  me  in  singing,  but  fell  back,  quite 
exhausted.  I  could  not  talk  much  with  her,  she  was 
so  weak ;  but  she  held  my  hand  with  a  firm  grasp,  still 
repeating  the  words,  '  Oh,  depth  of  mercy !  can  it  be  ?  ' 
I  have  just  heard  that  she  has  passed  away,  happy  in 
the  Saviour's  love,  and  singing  as  well  as  she  could 
that  beautiful  hymn." 

Lord  Shaftesbury  once  told  the  following  story : 
"  A  young  woman  had  wandered  away  from  home  and 
parents.  One  day,  while  listening  to  the  Gospel,  she 
was  so  impressed  that  she  resolved  to  return  home. 
She  started,  and  on  reaching  the  house  found  the  door 
unfastened,  and  she  walked  upstairs  to  her  mother. 
'  Mother,'  she  asked,  '  how  was  it  that  I  found  the 
door  open  ? '  '  My  girl,'  replied  the  mother,  '  that 
door  has  never  been  closed  since  you  have  been  away  ; 
I  thought  that  some  night  my  poor  girl  would 
return/  " 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  2 1 5 


The  Harbor  Bell 

Words  by  John  H.  Yates  Music  by  Ira  D.  Sankcy 

"  Our  life  is  like  a  stormy  sea — 
Swept  by  the  gales  of  sin  and  grief." 

John  H.  Yates,  a  humble  layman  who  lived  at 
Batavia,  New  York,  wrote  this  hymn  after  reading  the 
following  incident  in  a  newspaper :  We  were  nearing 
a  dangerous  coast,  and  the  night  was  drawing  near. 
Suddenly  a  heavy  fog  settled  down  upon  us.  No 
lights  had  been  sighted,  and  the  pilot  seemed  anxious 
and  troubled,  not  knowing  how  soon  we  might  be 
dashed  to  pieces  on  the  hidden  rocks  along  the  shore. 
The  whistle  was  blown  loud  and  hard,  but  no  response 
w'as  heard.  The  captain  ordered  the  engines  to  be 
stopped,  and  for  some  time  we  drifted  about  on  the 
waves.  Suddenly  the  pilot  cried,  '  Hark ! '  Far  away 
in  the  distance  we  heard  the  welcome  tones  of  the  har- 
bor bell,  which  seemed  to  say,  '  This  way,  this  way ! ' 
Again  the  engines  were  started,  and,  guided  by  the 
welcome  sound,  we  entered  the  harbor  in  safety." 

On  receiving  this  hymn  from  Mr.  Yates,  in  1891, 
I  at  once  set  it  to  music.  It  has  been  found  useful 
in  meetings  for  sailors  and  fishermen. 

The  King  is  Coming 

Words  by  Ira  D.  Sankey  Music  by  Ira  D.  Sankey 

"Rejoice!    Rejoice!  our  King  is  coming! 
And  the  time  will  not  be  long." 

During  one  of  my  trips  to  Great  Britain,  on  "  The 
City  of  Rome,''  a  storm  raged  on  the  sea.  The  wind 
was  howling  through  the  rigging,  and  waves  like 


2i6  Sankeys  Story 


mountains  of  foam  were  breaking  over  the  bow  of  the 
vessel.  A  great  fear  had  fallen  upon  the  passengers. 
When  the  storm  was  at  its  worst  we  all  thoug^ht  that 
we  might  soon  go  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea.  The  con- 
viction came  to  me  that  the  Lord  would  be  with  us  in 
the  trying  hour,  and,  sitting  down  in  the  reading  room, 
I  composed  this  hymn.  Before  reaching  England  the 
tune  had  formed  itself  in  my  mind,  and  on  arriving 
in  London  I  wrote  it  out  and  had  it  published  in 
Sacred  Songs  and  Solos."  It  has  been  much  em- 
ployed in  England  in  connection  with  sermons  on  the 
second  coming  of  Christ,  and  was  frequently  used 
by  Mr.  Moody. 

The  Mistakes  of  My  Life 

Words  by  Mrs.  Urania  Locke  Bailey  Music  by  Robert  Lowry 

"The  mistakes  of  my  life  have  been  many, 
The  sins  of  my  heart  have  been  more." 

While  we  were  holding  meetings  in  Boston,  in 
1876,  Mr.  Moody  was  entertained  by  one  of  the  lead- 
ing lawyers  of  the  city,  who  frequently  before  the 
meetings  would  ask  what  solo  I  had  selected.  If  I 
had  none,  he  would  say :  "Please  sing,  '  The  mistakes 
of  my  life  have  been  many ' ;  for  one  of  the  greatest 
mistakes  I  have  ever  made  was  to  ignore  God  in  all 
my  affairs.  But  at  last  he  took  away  my  only  child,  a 
beloved  son.  That  led  me  to  the  feet  of  Jesus,  and  I 
bowed  to  kiss  the  hand  that  had  laid  the  rod  upon  me. 
Then  I  told  the  Lord  that  I  would  devote  my  fortune 
to  his  service.  In  keeping  with  that  promise  I  erected 
a  college  for  young  women,  located  at  Wellesley  Lake, 
near  Boston."   This  good  man  has  now  passed  on  to 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  217 


his  reward.  Shortly  before  he  died  Mr.  Moody  and  I 
purchased  a  perpetual  scholarship  in  Wellesley  Col- 
lege, as  a  prize  to  be  sought  after  by  the  young  women 
of  Northfield  Seminary. 

Written  about  the  year  1871,  this  hymn  was  much 
used  and  became  very  popular  in  our  meetings  in  Great 
Britain. 

The  Model  Church 

Words  by  John  H.  Yates  Music  by  Ira  D.  Sankey 

"  Well,  wife,  Tve  found  the  model  church. 
And  worshiped  there  to-day." 

I  found  this  poem  in  a  newspaper,  wrote  the  music 
for  it,  and  sang  it  for  the  first  time  at  a  meeting  for 
ministers  and  Christian  workers  at  Atlanta,  Georgia, 
conducted  by  Mr.  Moody.  It  has  been  repeatedly 
used  as  a  solo  in  meetings  gathered  for  the  discussion 
of  the  subject,  How  to  reach  the  masses."  Once,  in 
Buffalo,  I  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  Mr.  Yates  of 
Batavia,  New  York ;  and  I  urged  him  to  devote  more 
of  his  time  to  writing  Gospel  hymns.  He  has  since 
written  several  popular  songs,  one  of  the  most  suc- 
cessful being  Faith  is  the  Victory,"  which  I  published 
in    The  Christian  Endeavor  Hymnbook." 

A  poor  little  girl,  living  in  an  alley  of  the  slum 
district  of  Chicago,  was  used  in  a  remarkable  way  for 
the  conversion  of  a  commercial  traveler.  He  had  re- 
ceived instructions,  his  trunks  filled  with  samples  had 
been  sent  to  the  depot,  and  hurried  good-byes  had 
been  said.  With  gripsack  in  hand,  he  took  a  short-cut 
to  the  station  through  one  of  the  filthy  alleys  of  the 


2i8  Sankey' s  Story 


city.  He  saw  a  great  number  of  half-clad  children, 
whose  only  home  was  a  wretched  basement  or  illy- 
ventilated  tenement.  As  he  passed,  one  little  waif  was 
singing  at  the  top  of  her  voice : 

"There'll  be  no  sorrow  there." 

"  Where     said  the  thoughtless  salesman. 

"  In  heaven  above,  where  all  is  love,  there'll  be  no  sorrow 
there," 

sang  the  little  girl. 

The  answer,  the  singer,  the  far-away  heaven  with 
no  sorrow  there,  lodged  in  his  heart.  The  fast-flying 
train  soon  left  behind  the  hurry  and  the  bustle  of  city 
life,  but  the  answer  of  the  little  singing  waif  was  taken 
up  and  repeated  by  the  rapid  revolution  of  the  car- 
wheels.  He  could  not  forget  the  singer  and  the  song, 
nor  could  he  rest  until  he  cried  for  mercy  at  the  Cross. 
It  was  one  of  the  many  fulfilments  of  the  promise,  "  A 
little  child  shall  lead  them." 

The  Ninety  and  Nine 

Words  by  E.  C.  Clephane  Music  by  Ira  D.  Sankey 

"There  were  ninety  and  nine  that  safely  lay- 
In  the  shelter  of  the  fold." 

It  was  in  the  year  1874  that  the  poem,  "  The 
Ninety  and  Nine,''  was  discovered,  set  to  music,  and 
sent  out  upon  its  world-wide  mission.  Its  discovery 
seemed  as  if  by  chance,  but  I  cannot  regard  it  other- 
wise than  providential.  Mr.  Moody  had  just  been  con- 
ducting a  series  of  meetings  in  Glasgow,  and  I  had 
been  assisting  him  in  his  work  as  director  of  the  sing- 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  219 


ing.  We  were  at  the  railway  station  at  Glasgow  and 
about  to  take  the  train  for  Edinburgh,  whither  we  were 
going  upon  an  urgent  invitation  of  ministers  to  hold 
three  days  of  meetings  there  before  going  into  the 
Highlands.  We  had  held  a  three  months'  series  in 
Edinburgh  just  previous  to  our  four  months'  campaign 
in  Glasgow.  As  we  were  about  to  board  the  train  I 
bought  a  weekly  new^spaper,  for  a  penny.  Being  much 
fatigued  by  our  incessant  labors  at  Glasgow,  and  in- 
tending to  begin  work  immediately  upon  our  arrival  at 
Edinburgh,  we  did  not  travel  second-  or  third-class,  as 
w^as  our  custom,  but  sought  the  seclusion  and  rest 
which  a  first-class  railway  carriage  in  Great  Britain 
affords.  In  the  hope  of  finding  news  from  America  I 
began  perusing  my  lately  purchased  newspaper.  This 
hope,  however,  was  doomed  to  disappointment,  as  the 
only  thing  in  its  columns  to  remind  an  American  of 
home  and  native  land  was  a  sermon  by  Henry  Ward 
Beecher. 

I  threw  the  paper  down,  but  shortly  before  arriv- 
ing in  Edinburgh  I  picked  it  up  again  with  a  view  to 
reading  the  advertisements.  While  thus  engaged  my 
eyes  fell  upon  a  little  piece  of  poetry  in  a  corner  of  the 
paper.  I  carefully  read  it  over,  and  at  once  made  up 
my  mind  that  this  would  make  a  great  hymn  for  evan- 
geUstic  work — if  it  had  a  tune.  So  impressed  was  I 
that  I  called  Mr.  Moody's  attention  to  it,  and  he  asked 
me  to  read  it  to  him.  This  I  proceeded  to  do  with  all 
the  vim  and  energy  at  my  command.  After  I  had  fin- 
ished I  looked  at  my  friend  Moody  to  see  what  the 
effect  had  been,  only  to  discover  that  he  had  not  heard 
a  word,  so  absorbed  was  he  in  a  letter  which  he  had 


220  Sankey's  Story 


received  from  Chicago.  My  chagrin  can  be  better 
imagined  than  described.  Notwithstanding  this  ex- 
perience, I  cut  out  the  poem  and  placed  it  in  my  musi- 
cal scrap-book — which,  by  the  way,  has  been  the  seed- 
plot  from  which  sprang  many  of  the  Gospel  songs  that 
are  now  known  throughout  the  world. 

At  the  noon  meeting  on  the  second  day,  held  at  the 
Free  Assembly  Hall,  the  subject  presented  by  Mr. 
Moody  and  other  speakers  was  The  Good  Shepherd." 
When  Mr.  Moody  had  finished  speaking  he  called  upon 
Dr.  Bonar  to  say  a  few  words.  He  spoke  only  a  few 
minutes,  but  with  great  power,  thrilling  the  immense 
audience  by  his  fervid  eloquence.  At  the  conclusion 
of  Dr.  Bonar's  words  Mr.  Moody  turned  to  me  with 
the  question,  Have  you  a  solo  appropriate  for  this 
subject,  with  which  to  close  the  service?"  I  had  noth- 
ing suitable  in  mind,  and  was  greatly  troubled  to  know 
what  to  do.  The  Twenty-third  Psalm  occurred  to  me, 
but  this  had  been  sung  several  times  in  the  meeting. 
I  knew  that  every  Scotchman  in  the  audience  would 
join  me  if  I  sang  that,  so  I  could  not  possibly  render 
this  favorite  psalm  as  a  solo.  At  this  moment  I 
seemed  to  hear  a  voice  saying :  Sing  the  hymn  you 
found  on  the  train But  I  thought  this  impossible,  as 
no  music  had  ever  been  written  for  that  hymn.  Again 
the  impression  came  strongly  upon  me  that  I  must 
sing  the  beautiful  and  appropriate  words  I  had  found 
the  day  before,  and  placing  the  little  newspaper  slip  on 
the  organ  in  front  of  me,  I  lifted  my  heart  in  prayer, 
asking  God  to  help  me  so  to  sing  that  the  people  might 
hear  and  understand.  Laying  my  hands  upon  the 
organ  I  struck  the  key  of  A  flat,  and  began  to  sing. 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  221 


Note  by  note  the  tune  was  given,  which  has  not 
been  changed  from  that  day  to  this.  As  the  singing 
ceased  a  great  sigh  seemed  to  go  up  from  the  meeting, 
and  I  knew  that  the  song  had  reached  the  hearts  of 
my  Scotch  audience.  Mr.  Moody  was  greatly  moved. 
Leaving  the  pulpit,  he  came  down  to  where  I  was 
seated.  Leaning  over  the  organ,  he  looked  at  the 
little  newspaper  slip  from  which  the  song  had  been 
sung,  and  with  tears  in  his  eyes  said :  "  Sankey,  where 
did  you  get  that  hymn?  I  never  heard  the  like  of  it 
in  my  life."  I  was  also  moved  to  tears  and  arose  and 
repHed :  "  Mr.  Moody,  that's  the  hymn  I  read  to  you 
yesterday  on  the  train,  which  you  did  not  hear."  Then 
Mr.  Moody  raised  his  hand  and  pronounced  the  bene- 
diction, and  the  meeting  closed.  Thus  **The  Ninety 
and  Nine  "  was  born. 

A  short  time  afterward  I  received,  at  Dundee,  a 
letter  from  a  lady  who  had  been  present  at  the  meet- 
ing, thanking  me  for  having  sung  her  deceased  sister's 
words.  From  correspondence  that  followed  I  learned 
that  the  author  of  the  poem  was  Elizabeth  C.  Clephane, 
a  resident  of  Melrose,  Scotland,  one  of  three  sisters,  all 
members  of  a  refined  Christian  family.  She  was 
born  in  Edinburgh  in  1830.  Her  sister,  in  describing 
Elizabeth,  says :  She  was  a  very  quiet  little  child, 
shrinking  from  notice  and  always  absorbed  in  books. 
The  loss  of  both  parents,  at  an  early  age,  taught  her 
sorrow.  As  she  grew  up  she  was  recognized  as  the 
cleverest  of  the  family.  She  was  first  in  her  class  and 
a  favorite  with  the  teacher.  Her  love  for  poetry  was  a 
passion.  Among  the  sick  and  suffering  she  won  the 
name  of  '  My  Sunbeam.'   She  wrote  *  The  Ninety  and 


22  2  Sankey's  Story 


Nine '  for  a  friend,  who  had  it  pubHshed  in  *  The  Chil- 
dren's Hour/  It  was  copied  from  thence  into  various 
publications,  but  was  comparatively  little  noticed.  She 
died  in  1869." 

When  Mr.  Moody  and  I  returned  from  England, 
in  1875,  we  held  our  first  meeting  on  a  Sunday  after- 
noon in  front  of  the  old  Congregational  church  in  the 
village  of  Northfield,  Massachusetts,  Mr.  Moody's 
home.  On  reaching  the  church  we  found  it  overflow- 
ing, and  more  people  surrounding  the  church  outside 
than  were  inside.  Mr.  Moody,  when  entering  the 
pulpit,  said :  I  always  speak  to  the  largest  crowd,  and 
as  it  is  outside,  I  will  speak  from  the  front  of  the 
church.''  The  congregation  retired  to  the  open  air, 
and  the  small  cabinet  organ  was  carried  to  a  position  on 
a  small  porch  in  front  of  the  church,  where  it  was 
placed  with  just  room  enough  for  me  to  take  my  seat. 
After  a  few  of  the  congregational  hymns  had  been 
sung,  Mr.  Moody  announced  that  I  would  sing  "  The 
Ninety  and  Nine."  Nearly  opposite  the  church,  across 
the  river,  a  man  was  seated  on  his  porch.  He  had 
refused  to  attend  the  service  in  the  village,  and  was 
quite  angry  because  his  family  and  neighbors  had  all 
gone  to  the  meeting.  But  the  singing  of  this  song 
reached  him,  and  two  weeks  later  he  attended  a  prayer- 
meeting  at  a  small  school-house  near  his  home,  where 
he  rose  and  said  that  he  had  heard  a  song  which 
greatly  troubled  him,  sung  by  Mr.  Sankey  at  the  meet- 
ing held  in  the  open  air  at  Northfield,  and  that  he 
wished  the  Christians  to  pray  for  him.  This  they  did, 
and  he  became  converted.  He  then  removed  to  North- 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns 


223 


field  and  joined  Mr.  Moody  in  his  work  in  connection 
with  the  schools,  where  he  continued  for  many  years. 

On  the  occasion  of  laying  the  corner-stone  for 
the  new  Congregational  church  in  Northfield,  Mr. 
Moody  asked  me  to  stand  on  the  corner-stone  and  sing 
The  Ninety  and  Nine  without  the  organ  accompani- 
ment, as  he  hoped  that  this  church  would  be  one  whose 
mission  it  would  be  to  seek  the  lost  ones.  While  I 
was  singing,  Mr.  Caldwell,  the  man  who  had  heard 
the  song  across  the  river,  lay  dying  in  his  cottage  near 
Mr.  Moody's  home.  Calling  his  wife  to  his  bedside,  he 
asked  her  to  open  the  south  window,  as  he  thought  he 
heard  singing.  Together  they  listened  to  the  same 
song  w^hich  had  been  used  to  lead  him  into  the  way  of 
life.  In  a  little  while  he  passed  away  to  join  the  Shep- 
herd in  the  upper  fold. 

At  the  close  of  our  meetings  at  Newcastle-on-Tyne 
one  of  the  most  efficient  workers  in  connection  with 
our  services,  Mrs.  Claphin,  decided  to  go  to  the  Con- 
tinent for  a  season  of  rest.  When  passing  through 
London  she  purchased  a  large  number  of  the  penny 
edition  of  "  Sacred  Songs  and  Solos,''  for  distribution 
on  the  way.  At  the  Grand  Hotel,  in  Paris,  she  left  a 
number  of  them  on  the  reading-table,  with  a  prayer 
for  God's  blessing  upon  those  who  might  find  them 
there.  A  few  weeks  later  she  visited  Geneva,  Switz- 
erland, and  whiie  attending  a  prayer-meeting  there 
one  evening,  the  minister  of  the  church  told  a  touching 
story  about  a  young  English  lady,  who  was  a  member 
of  his  church.  She  had  received  a  letter  from  a  long- 
lost  brother,  who  was  ill  at  the  Grand  Hotel  in  Paris. 


224  Sankey's  Story 


The  young  lady  asked  her  physician  if  he  would  allow 
her  to  go  to  see  her  brother.  The  physician  said: 
"  You  will  die  if  you  do."  She  replied :  "  I  will  die  if 
I  don't."  A  few  days  later  she  started  for  Paris,  and 
on  reaching  the  Grand  Hotel  she  was  taken  to  the  room 
where  her  dying  brother  lay.  After  a  warm  greeting 
he  took  from  under  the  pillow  a  copy  of  ''Sacred 
Songs  and  Solos/'  and  pointing  to  "  The  Ninety  and 
Nine,"  said :  ''  This  hymn  was  the  means  of  bringing 
me  to  Christ."  Mrs.  Claphin,  who  was  in  the  audience 
and  heard  this  story  related,  thanked  God  for  having 
put  it  into  her  heart  to  distribute  the  little  hymn-books. 

A  friend  sends  me  the  following :  "  One  day  I 
was  talking  with  a  woman  of  the  most  abandoned  sort, 
who  had  hardened  her  heart  by  many  years  of 
drunkenness  and  sin.  Nothing  I  could  say  made  any 
impression  on  her.  When  I  was  about  to  give  up,  our 
old  Scotch  cook,  who  was  fond  of  poetry,  began  to  sing : 

*  But  none  of  the  ransomed  ever  knew 
How  deep  were  the  waters  crossed; 
Nor  how  dark  was  the  night  that  the  Lord  passed  through, 
Ere  he  found  His  sheep  that  was  lost/ 

She  was  in  the  kitchen,  and  was  not  aware  that  any 
one  was  within  hearing.  Her  rich  Scotch  brogue  lent 
charm  to  the  verse,  and  it  seemed  a  message  from  God. 
For  the  poor  woman  to  whom  I  had  been  talking,  and 
who  was  so  hardened  a  moment  before,  burst  into 
tears,  and  falling  on  her  knees,  began  to  pray  to  the 
Good  Shepherd  to  receive  her.  She  was  converted, 
and  has  often  testified  to  the  fact  that  the  song  led 
her  to  Christ." 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  225 


Mr.  Blane,  of  South  Africa,  relates :  I  knew  a 
young  man  who  was  the  only  unconverted  member  of 
his  family.  At  home  he  was  constantly  hearing  of 
Christ,  and  being  asked  to  accept  him  as  his  Saviour. 
He  determined  to  rid  himself  of  all  home  restraint, 
and  to  enjoy  himself  by  making  a  tour  of  the  Conti- 
nent. He  set  out,  and  for  some  time  all  went  well.  At 
one  of  the  hotels  at  which  he  stayed  there  was  an  old 
Christian  woman.  As  was  her  constant  habit,  having 
first  obtained  the  consent  of  the  proprietor,  she  went 
from  room  to  room,  leaving  upon  the  table  of  each  a 
little  tract  or  book.  She  entered  this  young  man's 
room,  and  with  a  prayer  to  God  for  guidance,  took  out 
a  small  copy  of  Sankey's  hymns,  opening  it  at  the  one 
beginning, 

*  There  were  ninety  and  nine  that  safely  lay 
In  the  shelter  of  the  fold.' 

Under  the  guidance  of  the  Holy  Spirit  she  took  her 
pencil  and  drew  a  stroke  under  the  words  of  the  third 
line,  '  One  was  out  on  the  hills  away.'  Soon  the  young 
man  entered  his  room,  and  at  once  the  book  caught  his 
eye.  He  went  over  and  read  the  penciled  line.  Like 
a  flash  the  image  of  his  home  came  up  before  him,  and 
all  the  dear  ones  there,  until  his  stony  heart  was 
broken.  Throwing  himself  upon  his  knees,  he  cried 
for  mercy  and  besought  the  Father  to  receive  him  for 
Christ's  sake.  Soon  the  answer  came,  and  he  rose  to 
his  feet  a  new  man  in  Christ  Jesus." 

Mr.  Thomas  Leigh,  of  Liverpool,  who  assisted  in 
our  meetings  in  that  city,  writes  me  as  follows :  At 


2  26  Sa7ikeys  Story 


your  first  mission  in  Liverpool  an  old  man,  between 
seventy  and  eighty,  was  converted  through  your  sing- 
ing 'There  w^ere  ninety  and  nine/  He  lived  for  a 
number  of  years  afterward,  and  was  a  bright  worker 
and  gave  a  clear  testimony.  During  the  remainder  of 
his  life  he  went  by  the  name  of '  Ninety  and  Nine.' 

From  South  America,  only  last  November,  came 
this  testimony  from  a  former  co-worker :  Many 
years  ago,  in  1884,  I  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  you. 
I  was  then  a  member  of  your  London  choir,  and  helped 
in  speaking  to  souls  at  the  after-meetings  of  those  won- 
derful gatherings  you  and  dear  Mr.  Moody  held  in 
London  in  that  year.  Now,  more  than  twenty  years 
after,  I  am  out  here,  where  God  in  his  grace  has  given 
me  the  privilege  of  witnessing  for  him  for  the  last 
sixteen  years.  I  can  not  tell  you  the  blessing  that  the 
translations  of  your  hymns  into  Spanish  have  been 
here.  I  send  you  a  copy  of  our  hymn-book,  in  which 
I  have  collected  a  large  number  of  songs,  the  great 
majority  having  against  them  '  S.  S./  signifying 
'  Sacred  Songs  and  Solos.'  These  are  translations, 
adaptations  or  tunes  of  your  collection.  I  am  sure  God 
has  graciously  used  these  hymns  in  blessing  many 
souls.  Only  this  afternoon,  while  I  was  out  visiting 
some  new  converts,  I  heard  of  the  case  of  a  woman 
converted  through  the  singing  of  a  Spanish  transla- 
tion of  '  There  were  ninety  and  nine.'  Some  time  ago 
a  man,  who  was  a  bad  character,  was  spoken  to  by  a 
colporteur,  and  he  had  a  desire  to  read  the  Bible.  He 
lost  his  work  for  a  day  and  a  half  w^hile  he  hunted  in 
the  different  book-shops  for  a  Bible.    At  last  he  got 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  227 


one,  and  commenced  reading  it.  He  came  to  our  open- 
air  meetings,  followed  us  into  one  of  our  halls,  and 
was  soon  converted.  He  was  so  thankful  to  the  Lord 
for  what  he  had  done  for  him  that  he  asked  us  to 
come  and  have  meetings  in  his  house.  The  result  has 
been  that  at  least  twelve  of  his  relatives  and  neigh- 
bors have  been  converted.  Not  long  ago  a  woman 
came  into  the  meeting  in  his  house  in  a  careless,  laugh- 
ing way.  The  hymn  I  have  referred  to  was  being  sung. 
The  Spirit  of  God  convicted  her  then  and  there,  and 
she  burst  into  tears  and  cried  to  God  for  mercy,  say- 
ing that  she  was  *  that  lost  sheep,  out  on  the  moun- 
tains.' She  found  peace,  and  now  her  husband  is 
converted,  and  they  are  bright  and  earnest  Christians.'* 

The  Shining  Shore 

Words  by  the  Rev.  David  Nelson  Music  by  George  F.  Root 

"  My  days  are  gliding  swiftly  by, 
And  I,  a  pilgrim  stranger." 

Mr.  Nelson  was  a  surgeon  in  the  army  during  the 
War  of  1812.  Afterward  he  entered  the  ministry, 
preached  in  Tennessee  and  Kentucky,  and  later  moved 
to  Missouri,  where  he  opened  a  plantation.  There  he 
heard  an  address  on  the  evils  of  slavery  that  changed 
his  views.  I  will  live  on  roast  potatoes  and  salt 
before  I  will  hold  slaves he  declared.  He  advocated 
colonization  of  the  negroes.  This  brought  down  upon 
him  the  wrath  of  his  slave-holding  neighbors,  who 
drove  him  from  his  home  and  pursued  him  through  the 
woods  and  swamps  for  three  days  and  nights.  Finally 
he  came  out  on  the  banks  of  the  Mississippi  River 
opposite  Quincy,  Illinois.    By  signs  he  made  known 


228  Sankey's  Story 


his  condition  to  friends  there,  and  then  hid  in  the 
bushes  to  await  the  approach  of  night.  As  he  lay 
there  in  danger  of  being  captured  every  moment,  the 
land  of  freedom  in  plain  sight,  with  the  swiftly  gliding 
waters  between,  the  lines  of  this  hymn  began  to  assume 
form  in  his  mind,  and  he  wrote  them  down  on  the 
back  of  a  letter  he  had  in  his  pocket.  The  voices  of 
the  vengeful  pursuers  were  heard  in  the  woods  about 
him.  Once  they  strode  by  the  very  clump  of  bushes  in 
which  he  was  concealed,  and  even  poked  their  guns  in 
to  separate  the  branches ;  but  they  failed  to  notice  him. 
Several  members  of  the  Congregational  church  of 
Quincy  came  over  in  the  evening  in  a  canoe,  and  began 
fishing  near  his  hiding-place.  When  they  had  located 
this  exactly  they  gave  a  signal,  and  drawing  near  to 
the  shore,  met  him  as  he  rushed  down  to  the  water's 
edge.  They  got  him  safely  to  the  Illinois  side,  but 
were  discovered  and  followed  by  the  slaveholders, 
who  demanded  his  surrender.  But  they  were  informed 
that  Mr.  Nelson  was  now  in  a  free  State,  and  that 
nothing  should  molest  him.  In  Illinois  he  was  em- 
ployed by  the  Home  Missionary  Society,  and  continued 
to  take  an  active  part  in  the  anti-slavery  agitation  of 
those  times.    He  died  in  1844. 

As  to  the  music  of  this  hymn  Mr.  Root  says : 
One  day,  I  remember,  as  I  was  working  at  a  set  of 
graded  part-songs  for  singing  classes,  mother  passed 
through  the  room  and  laid  a  slip  from  one  of  the  re- 
ligious newspapers  before  me,  saying ;  '  George,  I 
think  that  would  be  good  for  music'  I  looked  at  the 
poem,  which  began,  '  My  days  are  gliding  swiftly  by,' 
and  a  simple  melody  sang  itself  along  in  my  mind  as  I 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  229 


read.  I  jotted  it  down  and  went  on  with  my  work. 
That  was  the  origin  of  the  music  of  '  The  Shining 
Shore.'  Later,  when  I  took  up  the  melody  to  har- 
monize it,  it  seemed  so  very  simple  and  commonplace 
that  I  hesitated  about  setting  the  other  parts  to  it.  I 
finally  decided  that  it  might  be  useful  to  somebody,  and 
I  completed  it,  though  it  was  not  printed  until  some 
months  afterward.  In  after  years  I  examined  it  in  an 
endeavor  to  account  for  its  great  popularity — but  in 
vain.  To  the  musician  there  is  not  one  reason  in 
melody  or  harmony,  scientifically  regarded,  for  such  a 
fact.  To  him  hundreds  of  others,  now  forgotten,  were 
better." 

This  was  a  favorite  hymn  of  Henry  Ward  Beecher. 
The  Smitten  Rock 

Words  by  George  C.  Needham  Music  by  Ira  D.  Sankey 

"  From  the  riven  Rock  there  floweth 
Living  water  ever  clear." 

"  When  Mr.  Sankey  lived  at  Cohasset,  Massachu- 
setts, in  the  summer  of  1876,  after  the  great  Boston 
meetings,  he  very  naturally  desired  to  bring  the  Gospel 
to  the  people  living  in  that  neighborhood.  Accord- 
ingly he  invited  me,''  wrote  Mr.  Needham  on  one 
occasion,  *'to  spend  a  week  with  him  in  a  series  of 
evangelistic  meetings.  Before  the  breakfast-hour  one 
morning,  while  Mr.  Sankey  was  playing  on  his  organ,  I 
remarked  : '  I  wish  we  had  a  good  hymn  on  The  Smitten 
Rock,  as  I  hope  to  speak  on  that  subject  to-night.' 
Mr.  Sankey  replied  with  enthusiasm :  '  Here  is  a  new 
hymn  which  came  to  me  last  night  in  my  sleep ;  I  be- 


230  Sankey's  Story 


lieve  the  Lord  gave  it  to  me.  I  wish  I  had  words  for 
it.  Why  don't  you  write  a  piece  on  The  Rock?V  I 
replied,  '  Why,  I  can't  write  such  a  hymn  as  you  want, 
and  you  know  that  I  don't  understand  music;  how  to 
fit  words  to  your  music  would  puzzle  an  unmusical 
man.'  The  enthusiastic  soloist,  still  playing,  said: 
*  You'll  find  pen  and  paper  on  the  table ;  this  is  a  stir- 
ring tune  and  I  want  the  words ;  try  your  hand  at  it.' 
I  immediately  sat  down  and  asked  the  Lord's  special 
help,  and  then  wrote  the  hymn  as  it  now  appears.  Mr. 
Sankey  took  the  paper,  with  the  ink  scarcely  dry  on  it, 
and  sang  it  through  with  the  chorus — the  new  air  and 
the  words  exactly  fitting,  without  alteration  or  amend- 
ment. '  I  think  the  Lord  gave  you  the  words  as  truly 
as  he  gave  me  the  tune,'  was  Mr.  Sankey's  first  remark. 
And  then  we  commended  the  little  piece  and  its  music 
to  the  great  Master,  praying  that  the  unction  of  the 
Holy  One  might  rest  upon  it.  Mr.  Sankey  sang  the 
hymn  for  the  first  time  in  public  that  evening,  after  I 
had  given  my  address  on  The  Smitten  Rock." 

The  Solid  Rock 

Woids  by  the  Rev.  Edward  Mote  Music  by  William  B.  Bradbury 

"  My  hope  is  built  on  nothing  less 
Than  Jesus'  blood  and  righteousness." 

I  went  astray  from  my  youth,"  said  the  author 
of  this  hymn.  "  My  Sundays  were  spent  on  the  streets 
in  play.  So  ignorant  was  I  that  I  did  not  know  there 
was  a  God.''  He  was  a  cabinet-maker,  and  was  con- 
verted under  the  preaching  of  the  Rev.  John  Hyatt. 
The  refrain  came  into  the  author's  mind  one  morning  in 
1834,  as  he  was  walking  up  Holborn  Hill,  London,  on 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  231 


his  way  to  work.  Four  stanzas  were  completed  that 
day  and  two  more  on  the  following  Sunday.  In  1852 
Mr.  Mote  became  the  pastor  of  a  Baptist  church  in 
Horsham,  Sussex,  where  he  continued  to  minister  for 
more  than  twenty  years.  In  his  eighty-first  year  his 
health  declined.  "  I  think  I  am  going  to  heaven,''  he 
said ;  "  yes,  I  am  nearing  port.  The  truths  I  have 
preached  I  am  now  living  upon,  and  they  will  do  to  die 
upon.  Ah!  the  precious  blood!  The  precious  blood 
which  takes  away  all  our  sins ;  it  is  this  which  makes 
peace  with  God."  And  so  he  passed  peacefully  away, 
his  hope  "built  on  nothing  less  than  Jesus'  blood  and 
righteousness." 

The  Sweet  Story  of  Old 

Words  by  Mrs.  Jemima  Luke  Music  by  J.  C.  Englcbrccht 

"  I  think  when  I  read  that  sweet  story  of  old, 
When  Jesus  was  here  among  men." 

"  In  the  year  1841  I  went  to  the  Normal  Infant 
School  in  Gray's  Inn  Road  to  obtain  some  knowledge 
of  the  system,"  writes  Mrs.  Luke.  "Mary  Moffat, 
afterwards  Mrs.  Livingstone,  was  there  at  the  same 
time,  and  Sarah  Roby,  whom  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Moffat  had 
rescued  in  infancy  when  buried  alive,  and  had  brought 
up  with  their  own  children.  Among  the  marching 
pieces  at  Gray's  Inn  Road  was  a  Greek  air,  the  pathos 
of  which  took  my  fancy,  and  I  searched  Watts  and 
Jane  Taylor  and  several  Sunday-school  hymn-books  for 
Avords  to  suit  the  measure  but  in  vain.  Having  been 
recalled  home,  I  went  one  day  on  some  missionary 
business  to  the  little  town  of  Wellington,  five  miles 
from  Taunton,  in  a  stage-coach.    It  was  a  beautiful 


232  Sankey's  Story 


spring  morning;  it  was  an  hour's  ride,  and  there  was 
no  other  inside  passenger.  On  the  back  of  an  old 
envelope  I  wrote  in  pencil  the  first  two  of  the  verses 
now  so  well  known,  in  order  to  teach  the  tune  to  the 
village  school  supported  by  my  step-mother,  and  which 
it  was  my  province  to  visit.  The  third  verse  was  added 
afterward  to  make  it  a  missionary  hymn.  My  father 
superintended  the  Sunday-school  in  which  we  taught, 
and  used  to  let  the  children  choose  the  first  hymn. 
One  Sunday  the  children  started  their  new  hymn.  My 
father  turned  to  his  younger  daughters  and  said, 
'  Where  did  that  come  from  ?  I  never  heard  it  before.' 
'  Oh,  Jemima  made  it,'  they  replied.  Next  day  he 
asked  for  a  copy,  and  sent  it,  without  my  knowledge, 
to  '  The  Sunday-School  Teachers'  Magazine.'  But 
for  this  it  would  probably  never  have  appeared  in 
print."  Mrs.  Luke  adds  regarding  her  composition: 
It  was  a  little  inspiration  from  above,  and  not  '  in 
me,'  for  I  have  never  written  other  verses  worthy  of 
preservation." 

There  is  a  Fountain 

Words  by  the  Rev.  William  Cowper  Music  by  Dr.  Lowell  Mason 

"  There  is  a  fountain  filled  with  blood. 
Drawn  from  Immanuel's  veins." 

Born  of  a  personal  experience  when  the  author 
was  forty  years  old,  this  hymn  of  faith  for  more  than 
a  century  has  been  eminently  useful  in  the  practical 
work  of  evangehzing  the  world. 

Along  the  streets  of  Glasgow,  shortly  after  our 
first  visit  to  Scotland,  a  little  boy  passed  one  evening, 
singing    There  is  a  fountain  filled  with  blood."  A 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  233 


Christian  policeman  joined  in  the  song,  and  when  he 
had  finished  his  beat  he  asked  the  boy  if  he  understood 
what  he  was  singing.    "  Oh,  yes,''  said  the  little  fellow, 

I  know  it  in  my  heart,  and  it  is  very  precious."  A 
few  evenings  afterward  some  one  asked  the  policeman : 

Do  you  know  that  a  woman  standing  where  we  are, 
was  awakened  and  saved  the  other  night  by  hearing, 
*  There  is  a  fountain,'  sung  by  a  policeman  and  a  boy?" 

A  lieutenant  in  the  Union  army,  having  received 
his  death-wound  in  a  gallant  charge  at  the  head  of  his 
regiment,  was  visited  in  the  hospital  by  the  chaplain, 
who  inquired  how  he  felt.  He  said  he  had  always  been 
cheerful,  and  was  now  ready  to  meet  God  in  peace. 
"  Chaplain,"  he  added,  I  was  passing  through  the 
streets  of  New  York  once  on  a  Sunday  night,  and  I 
heard  singing.  I  went  in  and  saw  a  company  of  poor 
people.  They  were  singing  '  There  is  a  fountain  filled 
with  blood.'  I  was  overpowered  with  the  impression 
the  hymn  made  upon  me,  and  I  gave  my  heart  to  God. 
Since  then  I  have  loved  Jesus,  and  I  love  him  now." 
That  was  his  last  speech. 

There  is  a  Green  Hill  far  away 

Words  by  Cecil  F.  Alexander  Music  by  George  C.  Stcbbins 

"  There  is  a  green  hill  far  away, 
Without  a  city  wall." 

While  holding  meetings  with  Mr.  Moody,  at  Car- 
diff, Wales,  in  1883,  I  visited  the  ruins  of  Tintern 
Abbey  with  Professor  Drummond.  While  there  I 
sang  this  song,  which  the  professor  said  to  me  was 
one  of  the  finest  hymns  in  the  English  language.  A 


234  Sankey' s  Story 


number  of  years  later  I  sang  it  on  the  green  hill  be- 
lieved to  be  Calvary,  outside  the  walls  of  Jerusalem. 

Mrs.  Alexander  was  the  wife  of  the  Most  Rev- 
erend W.  Alexander,  D.  D.,  Archbishop  of  Armagh. 
She  first  published  *'There  is  a  green  hill  far  away" 
in  her  *'Hymns  for  Little  Children"  in  1848.  It  is  a 
popular  children's  hymn  in  England.  Mr.  Stebbins 
set  it  to  a  new  tune  in  1884.  Mrs.  Alexander  wrote 
about  four  hundred  hymns  and  poems  for  children. 

There'll  be  no  Dark  Valley 

Words  by  the  Rev.  W.  O.  Gushing  Music  by  Ira  D.  Sankey 

"  There'll  be  no  dark  valley  when  Jesus  comes, 
There'll  be  no  dark  valley  when  Jesus  comes." 

One  night  during  the  Boxer  revolt,  when  the  Chi- 
nese had  set  fire  to  many  buildings  and  it  seemed  as 
though  all  the  missionaries  and  native  Christians  in  a 
besieged  city  would  be  destroyed,  the  children  belong- 
ing to  the  Junior  Christian  Endeavor  Society  held  a 
meeting  in  a  chapel.  While  the  cracklings  of  the 
flames,  the  sharp  report  of  the  Chinese  guns,  and  the 
cries  of  men  and  women  running  to  and  fro  were 
rending  the  air,  these  little  disciples  of  Jesus  were 
singing :  "  There'll  be  no  dark  valley  when  Jesus 
comes." 

A  missionary,  working  in  the  slums  of  a  city  in 
Ireland,  writes  me  as  follows :  I  feel  constrained  to 
thank  you  from  the  bottom  of  my  soul  for  all  the  great 
blessings  I  have  received  from  singing  your  songs. 

I  am  a  worker  in  the  slums  of  ,  and  I  find  that  your 

songs  reach  the  hearts  of  fallen  men  and  women  before 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  235 


anything  else.  I  have  just  returned  home  from  our 
meeting,  and  the  message  I  sang  to-night  was  your 
sweet  song :  *  There'll  be  no  dark  valley  when  Jesus 
comes/  I  want  to  thank  you  in  particular  for  this 
song,  because  it  presents  death  to  us  in  such  a  glorious 
way.  The  old  Welsh  people  used  to  speak  and  sing 
of  death  as  something  very  fearful — a  dark  river,  great 
waves  and  so  on — and  I  remember  my  dear  mother 
singing  all  the  Welsh  hymns  referring  to  death,  until  I 
shuddered.  But,  praise  the  Lord,  I  know  now  that 
it  is  diflferent.  Your  little  song  has  confirmed  this 
belief  in  me  not  only,  but  in  many,  many  more  souls.'' 

I  arranged  this  hymn  from  the  words  which  Mr. 
W.  O.  Gushing  wrote  for  me,  of  which,  however,  I 
used  only  the  first  line,  There'll  be  no  dark  valley 
when  Jesus  comes.''  It  has  of  late  become  quite  a 
favorite  throughout  the  country. 

There's  a  Light  in  the  Valley 

Words  by  P.  P.  Bliss  Music  by  P.  P.  Bliss 

"  Through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  I  must  go, 
Where  the  cold  waves  of  Jordan  roll." 

"  Some  years  ago  I  was  in  the  dark,''  a  young  lady 
of  London  told  me,  and  was  seeking  the  Lord  day 
and  night ;  but  I  could  get  no  rest  or  peace  for  my  soul. 
For  two  or  three  weeks  the  title  of  *  There's  a  Light  in 
the  Valley  '  kept  ringing  in  my  ears.  I  had  never  care- 
fully read  through  the  hymn,  but  in  my  constant  plead- 
mgs  with  the  Lord  I  always  begged  for  this  light  of 
the  valley  to  be  given  to  me.  And  one  night  Christ 
gave  the  light  I  had  been  asking  for.    I  cannot  de- 


236  Sankey's  Story 


scribe  my  joy  when  I  could  say,  '  There  is  a  Hght  in 
the  valley  for  me.'  I  scarcely  slept  that  night,  for  the 
words  would  come  to  me  again  and  again.  It  is  now 
my  privilege,  sometimes,  to  help  sing  them  for  others, 
and  then  they  seem  to  bring  a  fresh  wave  of  my  Sav- 
iour's love  to  me,  as  they  did  on  that  blessed  night/' 

Throw  Out  the  Life-Line 

Words  and  Music  by  the  Rev.  E.  S.  Uflford  Arr.  by  Geo.  C.  Stebbins 

"Throw  out  the  Life-Line  across  the  dark  wave. 
There  is  a  brother  whom  some  one  should  save." 

The  author  of  this  famous  hymn,  while  living  in 
Massachusetts  near  the  ocean,  one  day  saw  a  vessel 
wrecked  near  the  shore,  and  this  suggested  the  idea 
of  the  song.  Mr.  Stebbins  shortly  afterward,  about 
1889,  obtained  it  from  the  author,  and  made  a  number 
of  changes  in  Mr.  Ufford's  harmony.  From  Mr.  Steb- 
bins I  secured  it  for  publication  in  Gospel  Hymns  '* 
and  in  Sacred  Songs  and  Solos."  It  became  one  of 
the  most  useful  of  evangelistic  hymns,  and  was  often 
sung  with  effect  at  our  meetings  in  Great  Britain. 

A  Christian  commercial  traveler  has  just  sent  me 
this  word :  A  few  of  us  were  holding  a  street  meeting 
at  Warsaw,  Indiana,  last  August.  '  Throw  out  the 
Life-Line  '  had  been  sung,  and  a  man  spoke  as  follows  : 
'  I  hve  at  North  Tonawanda,  on  the  Niagara  River. 
Some  time  ago  my  son  was  walking  toward  home 
when  he  heard  a  scream  from  the  river.  He  rushed 
down  and  saw  a  young  lady  struggling  in  the  water, 
being  swept  down  the  river.  He  hurriedly  took  of? 
his  coat,  vest  and  shoes,  jumped  in,  swam  to  the  lady, 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  237 


took  hold  of  her  and  called  to  some  men,  who  were 
farther  down  the  river,  to  throw  out  a  life-line.  The 
men  heard  the  voice,  saw  the  man  and  woman  being 
swept  down  the  river,  and  hastily  threw  out  a  line  to 
them.  But  it  was  just  about  three  feet  too  short.  My 
son  and  the  woman  were  swept  over  the  falls  and 
both  were  drowned.'  There  were  two  or  three  hun- 
dred people  at  this  street  meeting,  and  the  speaker 
made  the  application  that  we  should  be  sure  that  our 
life-line  is  long  enough  to  reach  the  people  we  are 
after.  It  was  a  very  effective  service,  and  resulted  in 
at  least  one  conversion.'' 

Professor  Drummond  told  me  this  story,  and 
made  his  own  application  of  it : On  the  coast  of  Spain 
a  great  storm  was  raging,  and  a  wrecked  vessel  came 
drifting  near  the  light-house.  The  cries  of  the  perish- 
ing seamen  were  heard  in  the  darkness.  The  light- 
house keeper,  in  making  his  report  to  the  government 
— which  was  required  by  law  in  the  case  of  a  wreck — 
said :  '  We  rendered  all  possible  aid  from  the  top  of 
the  light-house  with  the  speaking  trumpet ;  notwith- 
standing, the  next  morning  twenty  corpses  were  found 
on  the  shore  and  the  vessel  had  disappeared.'  This  is 
too  often  the  case  in  our  preaching.  We  get  into  a 
high  pulpit  and  shout  at  the  top  of  our  voices,  but  we 
seldom  take  the  life-line  in  our  hands  and  go  down  to 
those  who  are  perishing  in  the  waves  of  sin,  to  rescue 
them  ere  it  is  too  late." 

A  man  on  an  Atlantic  steamer  told  me  another 
story,  which  in  its  way  illustrates  the  song :  "  One 
stormy  night  at  sea  a  cry  was  raised  on  board  a 


238  Sa7ikey  s  Story 


steamer,  '  Man  overboard ;  man  overboard ! '  A  num- 
ber of  the  alarmed  passengers  ran  to  the  captain  and 
begged  him  to  stop  the  vessel.  He  roughly  told  them 
to  mind  their  own  business  and  not  to  bother  him.  As 
he  said  this  a  seaman  ran  up  to  the  bridge  and  cried 
that  the  man  who  had  gone  overboard  was  the  captain's 
brother.  This  made  a  great  difference  to  the  captain. 
He  at  once  reversed  the  vessel,  rushed  to  the  stern, 
seized  a  life-line,  and  threw  it  as  far  as  he  could 
tow^ard  the  drowning  man,  hoping  that  he  might  be 
able  to  lay  hold  of  it.  Fortunately  the  man  seized  the 
line,  and,  tying  it  around  his  body,  cried :  '  Pull  away, 
pull  away ! '  The  captain  cried,  *  Have  you  hold  of 
the  line  ?  '  A  faint  answer  came  back,  '  The  line  has 
hold  of  me.'  In  a  little  while  the  man  was  drawn  on 
board  and  saved." 

To-day  the  Saviour  Calls 

Words  by  S.  F,  Smith  Music  by  Lowell  Mason 

"To-day  the  Saviour  calls; 
Ye  wand'rers,  come." 

For  inducing  immediate  acceptance  of  the  offer  of 
salvation  through  faith  in  Christ  this  hymn  has  been 
of  great  value.  In  one  of  his  sermons  Mr.  Moody 
refers  to  my  singing  it  on  a  night  never  to  be  for- 
gotten : 

For  four  or  five  nights  in  succession  I  had  been 
preaching  in  Chicago  on  the  subject  of  '  The  Life  of 
Christ,^  and  we  had  followed  him  from  the  cradle  to 
the  judgment  hall  of  Pilate.  I  have  always  felt  that 
on  that  night  I  made  one  of  the  greatest  mistakes  of 
my  life.    How  often  I  have  washed  that  I  could  call 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  239 


back  what  I  said  to  the  congregation  at  the  close  of 
the  meeting  on  that  memorable  night  of  the  Chicago 
fire !  That  night  I  spoke  from  the  text,  '  What  shall 
I  do  with  Jesus  ? '  and  as  I  closed  I  said :  '  Now  I  want 
you  to  take  this  question  home  with  you,  think  it  over, 
and  next  Sunday  night  I  want  you  to  come  back  here 
and  tell  me  what  you  are  going  to  do  with  Jesus.' 
What  a  mistake !  I  gave  them  a  week  to  decide ;  but 
I  never  met  that  audience  again.  Even  then  the  huge 
bell  of  the  court-house  near  by  was  tolling  out  what 
proved  to  be  the  death-knell  of  the  city.  How  well  I 
remember  the  hymn  Mr.  Sankey  sang  as  a  solo  at  the 
closing  moment  of  that  meeting,  as  his  voice  rang  out : 

*  To-day  the  Saviour  calls;  for  refuge  fly; 
The  storm  of  justice  falls,  and  death  is  nigh.* 

It  seemed  almost  prophetic.  It  was  the  last  verse  sung 
in  that  beautiful  hall.  We  closed  the  meeting  and 
went  out  into  the  streets,  never  to  meet  again.  It  is 
estimated  that  a  thousand  lives  were  lost  that  night. 
As  many  of  them  were  lost  near  Farwell  Hall,  it  may 
have  been  that  some  who  heard  me  say  that  night, 
*  Take  a  week  to  decide  the  question,'  were  among  the 
lost  ones." 

To  the  Work 

Words  by  Fanny  J.  Crosby  Music  by  W.  H.  Doane 

**To  the  work!  to  the  work!  we  are  servants  of  God, 
Let  us  follow  the  path  that  our  Master  has  trod/' 

Fanny  Crosby  wrote  the  words  of  this  hymn  in 
1869,  and  it  was  set  to  music  by  W.  H.  Doane  two 
years  later.  I  sang  it  for  the  first  time  in  the  home 
of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  J.  B.  Cornell  at  Long  Branch.  The 


240  Sankey's  Story 


servants  gathered  from  all  parts  of  the  house  while 
I  was  singing,  and  looked  into  the  parlor  where  I  was 
seated.  When  I  was  through  one  of  them  said : That 
is  the  finest  hymn  I  have  heard  for  a  long  time ;  won't 
you  please  sing  it  over  again  ? I  felt  that  this  was  a 
test  case,  and  that  if  the  hymn  had  such  power  over 
those  servants  it  would  be  useful  in  reaching  other 
people  as  well ;  so  I  published  it  in  "  Gospel  Hymns  " 
in  1875,  where  it  became  one  of  the  best  work-songs 
for  our  meetings  that  we  had. 

Trust  and  Obey 

Words  by  the  Rev.  J.  H.  Sammis  Music  by  D.  B.  Towner 

"  When  we  walk  with  the  Lord, 
In  the  light  of  his  Word." 

"  Some  years  ago,''  says  Professor  Towner,  mu- 
sical director  of  the  Moody  Bible  Institute,  "  Mr. 
Moody  was  conducting  a  series  of  meetings  in  Brock- 
ton, Massachusetts,  and  I  had  the  pleasure  of  singing 
for  him  there.  One  night  a  young  man  rose  in  a  testi- 
mony meeting  and  said,  '  I  am  not  quite  sure — ^but  I 
am  going  to  trust,  and  I  am  going  to  obey.'  I  just 
jotted  that  sentence  down,  and  sent  it  with  the  little 
story  to  the  Rev.  J.  H.  Sammis,  a  Presbyterian  min- 
ister. He  wrote  the  hymn,  and  the  tune  was  born. 
The  chorus, 

'Trust  and  obey, 
For  there's  no  other  way 
To  be  happy  in  Jesus 
But  to  trust  and  obey/ 

was  written  before  the  hymn  was." 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  241 


Trusting  Jesus,  That  is  All 

Words  by  E.  P.  Stites  Music  by  Ira  D.  Sankey 

"  Simply  trusting  every  day, 
Trusting  through  a  stormy  way." 

"  About  two  years  ago/'  writes  a  minister,  "  I 
visited  a  woman  who  was  suffering  from  an  incurable 
disease ;  but  great  as  was  her  agony  of  body,  her  dis- 
tress of  mind  was  greater  still.  One  day  she  said: 
'  The  future  is  so  dark,  I  dare  not  look  forward  at 
all/ 

To  my  question,  '  Can't  you  trust  yourself  in 
God's  hands  ? '  she  replied :  '  No,  I  can't  leave  myself 
there/ 

I  repeated  the  hymn,  '  Simply  trusting  ev'ry 
day,'  and  especially  dwelt  on  the  refrain,  '  Trusting 
as  the  moments  fly,  trusting  as  the  days  go  by.'  *  Ah,' 
she  said,  *  I  can  trust  him  this  moment ;  is  it  like  that  ?  ' 
I  then  sang  the  hymn  to  her,  and  the  change  that  came 
ever  her  was  wonderful.  She  never  lost  this  trust, 
and  she  had  the  page  in  her  hymn-book  turned  down, 
that  she  might  have  the  hymn  read  to  her.  After 
many  months  of  intense  suffering  she  passed  away, 
*  simply  trusting,'  to  the  land  where  there  shall  be  no 
more  pain." 

The  words  of  this  hymn  were  handed  to  Mr. 
Moody  at  Chicago,  in  1876,  in  the  form  of  a  news- 
paper clipping.  He  gave  them  to  me,  and  asked  me 
to  write  a  tune  for  them.  I  assented,  on  condition 
that  he  should  vouch  for  the  doctrine  taught  in  the 
verses,  and  he  said  he  would. 


242  Sankey' s  Story 


Under  His  Wings 

Words  by  the  Rev.  W.  O.  Gushing  Music  by  Ira  D.  Sankey 

''Under  His  wings  I  am  safely  abiding; 
Though  the  night  deepens  and  tempests  are  wild." 

As  Mr.  Moody  used  to  approach  the  seminary 
building  at  Northfield,  Massachusetts,  to  conduct  the 
morning  worship,  the  young  ladies  there  would  join 
in  the  singing  of  this  hymn  as  he  entered  the  room. 
It  was  one  of  their  popular  hymns,  as  it  was  also  of 
the  Estey  Quartet  made  up  of  the  leading  singers  of 
the  seminary. 

The  music  of  this  hymn  was  among  my  later  com- 
positions. 

A  young  man  in  a  hospital  in  Western  Massachu- 
setts was  once  visited  by  a  minister,  and  after  he  had 
prayed,  the  invalid  asked  him  to  sing  his  favorite  song. 
Under  His  Wings,"  saying  that  it  had  been  the 
means  of  his  conversion.  The  hymn  was  sung,  and 
in  a  short  time  the  listener  had  passed  away  to  the 
shelter  under  his  Master's  wings. 

Verily,  Verily 

Words  by  James  McGranahan  Music  by  James  McGranahan 

"  O  what  a  Saviour  that  He  died  for  me! 
From  condemnation  He  hath  made  me  free." 

About  twenty  years  ago,''  writes  the  Rev.  James 
Sprunt,  of  London,  "  Mrs.  S —  one  evening  left  her 
home,  near  Blandford  Square,  to  visit  some  of  her 
friends.  She  was  disappointed  to  find  that  they  were 
not  at  home.    She  called  upon  others,  but  they  also 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  243 


had  gone  out.  Vexed  in  mind  and  weary  in  body  she 
was  returning  to  her  home.  Passing  the  doors  of 
Omega  Hall,  she  was  invited  to  the  service  then  being 
held  inside.  She  entered,  and  enjoyed  the  service, 
especially  the  singing  of  '  O  what  a  Saviour,  that  He 
died  for  me ! '  This  was  good  news  to  her  soul.  By 
the  Spirit  of  God  she  had  been  taught  her  lost  condi- 
tion. What  was  she  to  do?  She  had  been  told  in 
the  Hall  to  repent  and  believe  the  Gospel,  to  accept 
Christ  as  her  Saviour,  and  to  rest  her  soul  on  the  fin- 
ished work  of  Calvary's  cross.  She  heard  all  this,  but 
did  not  obey.  But  when  she  retired  that  night  her 
mind  could  not  rest.  During  her  sleep  she  dreamed 
that  she  was  in  the  meeting  and  had  again  joined  in 
the  hymn,  '  O,  what  a  Saviour,  that  He  died  for  me ! ' 
and  with  the  dreamy  singing  she  awoke  to  say,  not 
in  a  dream  and  not  in  unbelief,  but  with  true  faith  in 
God's  Son,  '  From  condemnation  He  hath  made  me 
free.' " 

Waiting  and  Watching  for  Me 

Words  by  Marianne  Heam  Music  by  P.  P.  Bliss 

"  When  my  final  farewell  to  the  world  I  have  said, 
And  gladly  lie  down  to  my  rest." 

At  one  of  Mr.  Moody's  meetings  in  Farwell  Hall, 
Chicago,  this  testimony  was  given  on  one  occasion : 
For  many  years  past  I  have  been  an  infidel,  and  often 
lectured  to  audiences  in  opposition  to  the  Bible.  To- 
day, in  the  presence  of  all  you  who  see  me,  I  declare 
that  I  am  a  converted  man.  I  owe  the  softening  of 
my  hitherto  stony  heart  to  a  Gospel  hymn  sung  by 
Mr.  Bliss,  the  refrain  of  which  is,  *  Will  any  one  then, 


244  Sankey  s  Story 


at  the  beautiful  gate,  be  waiting  and  watching  for 
me?'  It  reminded  me  so  tenderly  of  my  Christian 
wife,  parents,  brothers,  sisters  and  children  who  have 
gone  before  me  that  it  quite  broke  me  down ;  and  now 
Christ  and  the  Word  have  become  my  best  hope  and 
stronghold." 

Welcome  !  Wanderer,  Welcome  ! 

Words  by  Horatius  Bonar  Music  by  Ira  D.  Sankey 

In  the  land  of  strangers, 
Whither  thou  art  gone/' 

"  An  editor  of  a  paper  in  the  South/'  says  one 
who  was  connected  with  the  Florence  Mission  at  the 
time  this  incident  occurred,  lost  all  through  drink 
and  dissipation,  and  one  day  left  his  wife  and  five 
children  to  look  after  themselves.  Without  bidding 
them  good-bye  he  left  home,  determined  not  to  re- 
turn until  he  was  a  man  and  could  live  a  sober  life. 
In  New  York  he  sank  still  lower.  One  night  he 
pawned  some  of  his  clothing;  but  soon  he  was  again 
penniless  and  had  no  place  to  sleep.  He  then  wrote 
a  note  to  his  wife,  bidding  her  good-bye,  saying  they 
would  never  see  each  other  again,  as  he  had  decided 
to  die  that  night.  He  was  walking  toward  East 
River  when  the  sound  of  music  attracted  his  attention. 
He  looked  up  and  saw  the  sign,  '  The  Florence.'  That 
was  the  name  of  his  oldest  daughter.  He  listened ;  a 
lady  was  singing  a  song  his  wife  used  to  sing  on  Sun- 
day afternoons  at  home,  words  that  went  to  his  heart, 
*  In  the  land  of  strangers,  whither  thou  art  gone, 

Hear  a  far  voice  calHng,  "My  son,  My  son! 

Welcome!  wanderer,  welcome!    Welcome  back  to  home! 

Thou  hast  wandered  far  away:  Come  home,  come  home! 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  245 


The  song,  coupled  with  the  name  that  was  his  daugh- 
ter's, led  him  to  think  we  were  praying  for  him.  He 
came  in,  drunk  as  he  was,  and  asked  us  to  do  so.  He 
became  a  convert  and  an  earnest  Christian  worker,  and 
has  held  a  position  of  responsibility  in  business  for 
many  years,  he  and  his  family  having  been  reunited." 

Written  for  me  by  Dr.  Bonar,  in  1883,  this  hymn 
becam^e  the  favorite  song  of  the  choir  of  over  fifteen 
hundred  voices,  led  by  Percy  S.  Foster,  at  our  meet- 
ings in  the  great  Convention  Hall  in  Washington  dur- 
ing the  winter  of  1894. 

What  a  Friend  We  have  in  Jesus 

Words  by  Joseph  Scriven  Music  by  Charles  C.  Converse 

"  What  a  friend  we  have  in  Jesus, 
All  our  sins  and  griefs  to  bear." 

Thousands  have  been  cheered  in  time  of  trouble, 
and  so  led  nearer  to  Christ,  by  this  sweet  and  simple 
hymn ;  for  very  few  hymns  have  been  more  widely- 
published  or  more  frequently  sung.  The  author  was 
born  in  Dublin  in  1820,  and  came  to  Canada  when  he 
was  twenty-five.  There  he  lived  a  useful  life  until 
his  death  in  1886.  The  young  lady  to  whom  he  was 
to  be  married  was  accidentally  drowned  on  the  eve 
of  their  wedding  day.  This  led  him  to  consecrate  his 
life  and  fortune  to  the  service  of  Christ.  Though  a 
graduate  of  Trinity  College  and  a  man  of  refinement, 
he  chose  humble  duties.  One  afternoon  he  was  seen 
walking  down  the  streets  of  Port  Hope  where  he 
lived,  dressed  as  a  plain  workingman  and  carrying  a 


246  Sankeys  Story 


saw-horse  and  a  saw  on  his  mission  of  help.  A  citi- 
zen, noticing  that  a  friend  recognized  him,  said : 

Do  you  know  that  man  ?  What  is  his  name  and 
where  does  he  live?  I  want  some  one  to  cut  wood, 
and  I  find  it  difficult  to  get  a  sober  man  to  do  the  work 
faithfully." 

But  you  can't  get  that  man,"  was  the  reply. 
That  is  Mr.  Scriven.    He  won't  cut  wood  for  you." 

"  Why  not  ?  "  queried  the  gentleman. 
Because  you  are  able  to  pay  for  it.    He  only 
saws  wood  for  poor  widows  and  sick  people." 

Until  a  short  time  before  his  death  it  was  not 
known  that  he  had  a  poetic  gift.  A  neighbor,  sitting 
up  with  him  in  his  illness,  happened  upon  a  manuscript 
copy  of  What  a  friend  we  have  in  Jesus."  Reading 
it  with  great  delight  and  questioning  Mr.  Scriven 
about  it,  he  said  that  he  had  composed  it  for  his 
mother,  to  comfort  her  in  a  time  of  special  sorrow, 
not  intending  that  any  one  else  should  see  it.  Some 
time  later,  when  another  Port  Hope  neighbor  asked 
him  if  it  was  true  that  he  composed  the  hymn,  his 
reply  was :    The  Lord  and  I  did  it  between  us." 

Returning  from  England  in  1875,  I  soon  became 
associated  with  P.  P.  Bliss  in  the  publication  of  what 
later  became  known  as  Gospel  Hymns  No.  i." 
After  we  had  given  the  completed  compilation  to  our 
publishers  I  chanced  to  pick  up  a  small  paper-covered 
pamphlet  of  Sunday-school  hymns,  published  at  Rich- 
mond, Virginia.  I  discovered  this  and  sang  it 
through,  and  determined  to  have  it  appear  in  Gospel 
Hymns."     As  the  composer  of  the  music  was  my 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  247 


friend  C.  C.  Converse,  I  withdrew  from  the  collection 
one  of  his  compositions  and  substituted  for  it,  What 
a  friend  we  have  in  Jesus."  Thus  the  last  hymn  that 
went  into  the  book  became  one  of  the  first  in  favor. 

As  published  in  the  small  Richmond  hymnal,  the 
authorship  of  the  words  was  erroneously  attributed 
to  the  great  Scotch  preacher  and  hymn-writer.  Dr. 
Horatius  Bonar.  We  were  in  error,  also,  in  assign- 
ing the  words  to  him.  Some  years  afterward  Dr. 
Bonar  informed  us  that  he  was  not  the  author,  and 
that  he  did  not  know  who  wrote  it.  It  was  not  until 
six  or  eight  years  after  the  hymn  first  appeared  in 
our  collection  that  we  learned  who  the  author  really 
was. 

What  must  it  be  to  be  There  ? 

Words  by  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Mills  Music  by  George  C.  Stebbins 

"  We  speak  of  the  land  of  the  blest, 
A  country  so  bright  and  so  fair.'* 

You  see  that  I  am  still  in  the  land  of  the 
dying,'*  wrote  Philip  Phillips,  The  Singing  Pilgrim," 
shortly  before  his  death  at  Delaware,  Ohio.  "  Why 
I  linger  so  long  is  to  me  a  problem.  The  precious 
Saviour  is  more  to  me  than  I  ever  expected  when  I 
was  well.  Often  during  the  night  seasons  I  have  real 
visions;  I  am  walking  on  the  banks  of  the  Beautiful 
River,  and  getting  glimpses  of  the  bright  Beyond.  The 
lines  that  come  most  often  to  me  are  these : 

*  We  speak  of  the  land  of  the  blest, 
A  country  so  bright  and  so  fair. 
And  oft  are  its  glories  confest, 
But  what  must  it  be  to  be  there?* 


24S  Sankey  s  Story 


Blessed  be  God  I  I  shall  soon  know.  What  a  singing 
time  we  will  have  when  we  get  there  !*' 

What  Shall  the  Harvest  Be? 

Words  by  Emily  S.  Oakey  Music  by  P.  P.  BUss 

Sowing  the  seed  by  the  daylight  fair, 
Sowing  the  seed  by  the  noonday  glare." 

In  the  winter  of  1876  Mr.  Moody  and  I  were 
holding  meetings  in  Chicago  in  a  large  building  owned 
by  John  \'.  Farwell.  one  of  Mr.  Moody's  first  and 
most  valued  friends  in  that  city.  It  was  our  custom 
to  hold  temperance-meetings  on  Friday  afternoons. 
At  one  of  these  micetings  the  following  testimony  was 
given : 

At  the  breaking  out  of  the  war  in  1861  I  en- 
listed in  the  arm.y  and  was  soon  appointed  a  first  lieu- 
tenant. I  was  not  yet  eighteen  and  had  never  been 
away  from  home  influences.  I  had  never  tasted  liquor 
and  did  not  know  one  card  from  another.  The  regi- 
ment to  which  I  was  assigned  was  principally  officered 
by  young  mien,  but  miany  of  them  were  old  in  dissi- 
pation. This  new  life  was  attractive  to  me,  and  I 
entered  upon  it  with  avidity.  I  was  soon  a  steady 
drinker  and  a  constant  card-player.  I  laughed  at  the 
caution  of  the  older  heads,  and  asserted  with  all  the 
egotism  of  a  boy  that  I  could  abandon  my  bad  habits 
at  any  tim.e  I  wanted  to.  But  I  soon  found  that  my 
evil  desires  had  complete  control  over  my  will.  In 
1870,  being  a  physical  wreck,  I  resigned,  and  deter- 
mined to  begin  a  new  life.  Time  and  again  I  failed, 
and  at  last  I  gave  up  all  hope  and  abandoned  myself 
to  the  wildest  debaucher}-,  speculating  with  reckless 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  249 


indiflference  on  how  much  longer  my  body  could  en- 
dure the  strain.  In  anticipation  of  sudden  death  I 
destroyed  all  evidences  of  my  identity,  so  that  my 
friends  might  never  know  the  dog's  death  I  had  died. 
It  was  while  in  this  condition  that  I  one  day  wandered 
into  this  Tabernacle  and  found  a  seat  in  the  gallery. 
There  I  sat  in  my  drunken  and  dazed  condition,  look- 
ing down  upon  well-dressed  and  happy  people.  I 
concluded  that  it  was  no  place  for  me,  and  was  just 
about  to  go  out,  when  out  of  a  perfect  stillness  rose  the 
voice  of  Mr.  Sankey  singing  the  song,  '  What  Shall 
the  Harvest  be  ? '  The  words  and  music  stirred  me 
with  a  strange  sensation.  I  listened  till  the  third  verse 
had  been  sung : 

*  Sowing  the  seed  of  a  lingering  pain, 
Sowing  the  seed  of  a  maddened  brain, 
Sowing  the  seed  of  a  tarnished  name, 
Sowing  the  seed  of  eternal  shame; 
Oh,  what  shall  the  harvest  be?' 

These  words  pierced  my  heart.  In  desperation  I 
rushed  downstairs  and  out  into  the  snowy  streets.  I 
soon  found  a  saloon,  where  I  asked  for  liquor  to  drown 
my  sorrow.  On  every  bottle  in  the  bar-room,  in 
w^ords  of  burning  fire,  I  could  read  *  What  shall  the 
harvest  be  ? '  When  I  took  up  my  glass  to  drink  I 
read,  written  on  it,  '  What  shall  the  harvest  be  ? '  and 
I  dashed  it  to  the  floor  and  rushed  out  again  into  the 
cold,  dark  night.  The  song  still  followed  me  wherever 
I  went,  and  finally  drew  me  back  to  the  Tabernacle 
two  weeks  later.  I  found  my  way  into  the  inquiry- 
room  and  was  spoken  to  by  a  kind-hearted,  loving 
brother.    With  his  open  Bible  he  pointed  me  to  the 


250  Sankeys  Story 


Great  Physician  who  had  power  to  cure  me  and  heal 
me  of  my  appetite,  if  I  would  only  receive  him. 
Broken,  weak,  vile  and  helpless,  I  came  to  him,  and 
by  his  grace  I  was  able  to  accept  him  as  my  Re- 
deemer ;  and  I  have  come  here  to-day  to  bear  my  tes- 
timony to  the  power  of  Jesus  to  save  to  the  utter- 
most." 

We  were  all  deeply  touched  by  this  testimony, 
and  there  was  scarcely  a  dry  eye  in  the  audience.  A 
week  later  this  man  came  into  our  waiting-room  and 
vshowed  me  a  letter  from  his  little  daughter,  which 
read  about  as  follows : 

Dear  Papa :  Mamma  and  I  saw  in  the  Chicago 
papers  that  a  man  had  been  saved  in  the  meetings 
there,  who  was  once  a  lieutenant  in  the  army,  and  I 
told  mamma  that  I  thought  it  was  my  papa.  Please 
write  to  us  as  soon  as  you  can,  as  mamma  cannot  be- 
Heve  that  it  was  you." 

This  letter  was  received  by  the  man  at  the  gen- 
eral post-ofifice.  The  mother  and  their  two  children 
were  sent  for,  and  with  the  help  of  Mr.  Moody  a  home 
was  soon  secured  'for  them  and  employment  for  the 
man.  He  was  asked  to  go  to  many  places  to  give  his 
experience,  and  he  soon  became  so  effective  in  his 
addresses  that  his  friends  prevailed  upon  him  to  study 
for  the  ministry.  Eventually  he  became  pastor  of  a 
large  church  in  the  Northwest,  where  he  labored  for 
a  number  of  years  till  his  death,  in  Evanston,  Illinois, 
in  1899.  His  name  was  W.  O.  Lattimore.  He  wrote 
a  hymn  for  me,  entitled,  "  Out  of  the  darkness  into 
light,"  which  I  set  to  music. 

The  author  of  "  What  shall  the  harvest  be  ? "  who 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  251 


was  born  at  Albany,  was  a  frail,  delicate  woman,  al- 
ways an  invalid,  never  having  known,  as  she  once  said, 
an  hour  of  health  in  all  her  life. 

When  Jesus  Comes 

Words  by  P.  P.  Bliss  Music  by  P.  P.  Bliss 

"  Down  life's  dark  vale  we  wander. 
Till  Jesus  comes.*' 

One  day  in  1872  Mr.  Bliss  heard  a  conversation 
between  two  of  his  friends,  who  were  speaking  on 
the  subject  of  the  return  of  our  Lord.  One  of  the 
ladies  quoted  a  line  from  a  work  of  Anna  Shipton, 
"  This  may  be  the  day  of  His  coming,''  and  spoke  of 
the  joy  and  comfort  the  thought  gave  her.  Mr.  Bliss 
was  much  impressed,  more  deeply  than  ever  before, 
as  to  the  reality  of  this  subject;  and  a  few  days  after 
as  he  was  coming  downstairs  from  his  room,  still  oc- 
cupied with  the  thought  of  looking  for  Christ's  ap- 
pearing, he  commenced  singing,  Down  life's  dark 
vale  we  wander,"  the  words  and  music  coming  to  him 
as  he  took  the  successive  steps  down  the  stairs.  He 
at  once  wrote  it  down  just  as  we  have  it  to-day  in 
Gospel  Hymns." 

When  the  Mists  have  Rolled  Away 

Words  by  Annie  Herbert  Music  by  Ira  D.  Sankey 

"When  the  mists  have  rolled  in  splendor 
From  the  beauty  of  the  hills/* 

I  sang  this  hymn  for  the  first  time  in  The  Free 
Trade  Hall,  in  Manchester,  in  1883,  at  one  of  Mr. 
Moody's  meetings.    The  service  was  held  at  eight 


252  Sankey  s  Story 


o'clock  on  a  gloomy  winter  morning.  The  hall  was 
densely  crowded  and  filled  with  mist,  so  much  so  that 
the  people  could  hardly  be  discerned  at  the  farther  end 
of  the  hall.  I  felt  the  need  of  something  to  brighten 
up  the  meeting,  and  then  and  there  decided  to  launch 
this  new  song.  It  was  received  with  much  enthusi- 
asm, and  at  once  became  a  favorite  of  IMr.  Moody's, 
and  continued  to  be  so  until  his  death. 

When  the  Roll  is  Called  up  Yonder 

Words  by  J.  M.  Black  Music  by  J.  M.  Black 

When  the  trumpet  of  the  Lord  shall  sound,  and  time  shall 
be  no  more. 

And  the  morning  breaks,,  eternal,  bright  and  fair." 

\\'hile  a  teacher  in  a  Sunday-school  and  presi- 
dent of  a  young  people's  society,"  says  the  author  of 
this  hymn,  "  I  one  day  met  a  girl,  fourteen  years  old, 
poorly  clad  and  the  child  of  a  drunkard.  She  accepted 
my  invitation  to  attend  the  Sunday-school,  and  joined 
the  young  people's  society.  One  evening  at  a  conse- 
cration-meeting, when  members  answered  the  roll- 
call  by  repeating  Scripture  texts,  she  failed  to  respond. 
I  spoke  of  what  a  sad  thing  it  would  be,  when  our 
names  are  called  from  the  Lamb's  Book  of  Life,  if 
one  of  us  should  be  absent ;  and  I  said,  O  God,  when 
my  own  name  is  called  up  yonder,  may  I  be  there  to 
respond  I  '  I  longed  for  something  suitable  to  sing 
just  then,  but  I  could  find  nothing  in  the  books.  We 
closed  the  meeting,  and  on  my  way  home  I  was  still 
wishing  that  there  might  be  ?  song  that  could  be  sung 
on  such  occasions.  The  thought  came  to  me,  '  Why 
don't  you  make  it?'    I  dismissed  the  idea,  thinking 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  253 


that  I  could  never  write  such  a  hymn.  When  I 
reached  my  house  my  wife  saw  that  I  was  deeply  trou- 
bled, and  questioned  me,  but  I  made  no  reply.  Then 
the  words  of  the  first  stanza  came  to  me  in  full. 
In  fifteen  minutes  more  I  had  composed  the  other 
two  verses.  Going  to  the  piano,  I  played  the  music 
just  as  it  is  found  to-day  in  the  hymn-books,  note  for 
note,  and  I  have  never  dared  to  change  a  single  word 
or  a  note  of  the  piece  since." 

Where  is  My  Boy  to-Night? 

Words  by  Robert  Lowry  Music  by  Robert  Lowry 

Where  is  my  wandering  boy  to-night — 
The  boy  of  my  tenderest  care?" 

A  mother  came  to  me  in  Boston  and  asked  me  if 
I  would  try  to  find  her  wandering  boy  in  California 
when  I  should  go  there  with  Mr.  Moody  to  hold  meet- 
ings. I  promised  to  do  what  I  could.  For  several 
weeks,  as  opportunity  presented  itself,  I  searched  the 
cheap  boarding-houses  for  the  young  man.  At  last 
I  found  him  in  the  slums  of  the  city  and  asked  him 
to  come  to  our  meetings.  He  refused,  saying  that 
he  was  not  fit  to  be  seen  there ;  but  after  much  per- 
suasion he  came.  One  evening  I  sang:  "Where  is 
my  wandering  boy,''  and  prefaced  it  with  a  few  re- 
marks, saying  that  I  knew  of  one  dear  mother  in  the 
East  who  was  praying  for  her  wandering  boy  to-night. 
This,  together  with  the  song,  touched  the  young  man's 
heart,  and  he  found  his  way  into  the  inquiry-room, 
where,  with  my  open  Bible,  I  was  enabled  by  God's 
grace  to  lead  him  into  the  light.  I  wrote  to  his  mother 
and  told  her  that  her  boy  had  been  found,  and  that 


254 


Sankey's  Story 


he  was  now  a  professed  Christian.  She  sent  me  money 
to  pay  his  railway  fare  back  to  Boston,  and  in  a  short 
time  he  had  reached  home  and  received  a  hearty  wel- 
come. He  soon  found  employment,  and  became  a  use- 
ful citizen,  and  has  since  been  a  follower  of  Christ. 

I  heard  Chancellor  Sims  relate,"  states  the  Rev. 
H.  B.  Gibbud,  that  he  was  once  traveling  with  a  man 
from  the  West  who  was  on  his  way  to  visit  his  father, 
whom  he  had  left  years  before  when  he  was  a  boy. 
There  had  been  trouble  between  them,  and  the  father 
had  told  the  son  that  he  could  go.  In  his  anger  the 
boy  said  that  he  would,  and  that  he  would  never  re- 
turn. He  had  gone  West,  where  he  became  a  wealthy 
ranch  owner;  but  he  had  never  written  to  his  father 
and  had  held  the  anger  in  his  heart  toward  him  all 
those  years.  Then  he  told  the  Chancellor  how  it  was 
that  he  was  now  returning.  A  train  on  which  he  had 
been  traveling  had  been  snowed  in,  and  people  living 
near  had  made  up  a  load  of  provisions  and  taken  them 
to  the  imprisoned  passengers.  Then  it  was  discov- 
ered that  Mr.  Sankey  was  on  board,  and  at  the  peo- 
ple's request  he  came  out  on  the  steps  and  sang: 
'  Where  is  my  wandering  boy  ? '  That  song  touched 
this  man's  heart,  led  him  to  God,  and  he  was  now 
going  East  to  seek  reconciliation  with  his  parents." 

A  wayward  boy  was  brought  by  a  friend  to  the 
evening  service  of  the  Rev.  J.  H.  Byers,  of  Stanberry, 
Missouri.  Having  learned  something  of  his  condition, 
Mr.  Byers  asked  the  leader  of  the  choir  to  sing  as  a 
solo :  "  Where  is  my  wandering  boy  to-night  ?  "  which 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  255 


he  did  with  great  feeling.  The  boy  was  converted, 
the  next  evening  he  united  with  the  church,  and  he 
has  continued  to  be  an  active,  praying  worker  ever 
since.  The  young  man's  parents  were  devoted  Chris- 
tions.  On  the  same  night  and  until  the  next  after- 
noon, for  what  was  an  unknown  reason  to  them,  they 
were  led  to  pray  most  earnestly  for  their  lost  boy. 
During  the  time  when  the  prayer-meeting  was  being 
held,  they  were  comforted,  and  beheved  that  they 
would  hear  good  news.  In  a  few  hours  they  received 
a  telegram  that  their  boy  was  saved.  At  the  meeting 
where  this  hymn  was  sung  there  were  present  the 
parents  of  two  other  boys  who  had  left  their  homes, 
and  as  the  solo  was  sung  they  prayed  that  their  boys 
might  be  saved  and  brought  home.  In  a  few  days  let- 
ters were  received  from  those  boys,  telling  their  par- 
ents that  they  were  saved  on  the  night  when  the  solo 
was  sung  and  the  prayers  were  sent  up  for  them. 

The  author  of  this  hymn,  which  has  done  more 
to  bring  back  wandering  boys  than  any  other,  became 
a  follower  of  Christ  at  the  age  of  seventeen.  After  a 
score  of  years  in  different  pastorates  he  accepted  the 
professorship  of  letters  in  his  alma  mater,  Bucknell 
University,  together  with  the  pastorate  of  another 
church.  This  double  service  he  performed  for  six 
years,  and  then  moved  to  Plainfield,  New  Jersey, 
where  he  lived  until  his  death,  in  1899,  at  the  age  of 
seventy-three.  Dr.  Lowry  will  continue  to  preach  the 
Gospel  in  his  hymns  long  after  his  sermons  have  been 
forgotten.  Many  of  his  hymns  were  written  after 
the  Sunday  evening  service,  when  his  body  was  weary 
but  his  mind  refused  to  rest. 


256 


Sankey's  Story 


Whiter  Than  Snow 


Words  by  James  Nicholson 


Music  by  Wm.  G.  Fischer 


"Lord  Jesus,  I  long  to  be  perfectly  whole; 
I  want  Thee  forever  to  live  in  my  soul." 

"  In  the  spring  of  1893,"  relates  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Bradley,  a  Methodist  minister  in  Utah,  a  lady  who 
had  come  from  Ireland  as  a  Mormon  immigrant  sev- 
eral years  before,  was  brought  under  very  pungent 
conviction  of  sin,  which  lasted  for  several  days.  She 
attended  our  services  several  times,  but  seemed  to  get 
no  relief.  On  the  following  Monday  morning,  while 
she  was  about  her  work  as  usual,  the  burden  had  be- 
come almost  unbearable.  As  she  worked  she  began  to 
sing,  *  Lord  Jesus,  I  long  to  be  perfectly  whole  and 
when  she  came  to  the  closing  words,  '  To  those  who 
sought  Thee,  Thou  never  saidst  No,'  a  feeling  came 
over  her  like  a  flash,  she  says,  that  He  would  not  say 
^  No '  to  her.  From  that  moment  the  burden  was 
lifted  and  she  was  filled  with  joy." 

Mr.  Fischer,  the  composer,  was  a  resident  of  Phil- 
adelphia, and  in  1876  was  the  leader  of  the  Moody 
and  Sankey  choir  in  the  great  building  at  Thirteenth 
and  Market  streets,  in  that  city. 


Whosoever  heareth,'  shout,  shout  the  sound! 
Send  the  blessed  tidings  all  the  world  around." 

Henry  Moorehouse,  the  English  evangelist, 
preached  seven  sermons  on  John  3:  16  in  Chicago 
during  the  winter  of  1869-70.    Those  sermons  made 


Whosoever  Will 


Words  by  P.  P.  Bliss 


Music  by  P.  P.  Bliss 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  257 


a  very  deep  impression  on  Mr.  Bliss,  Mr.  Moody  and 
others,  and  from  that  time  a  new  and  clearer  view 
of  the  love  of  God  was  experienced  by  many  who 
went  forth  to  preach — perhaps  not  less  about  the  law, 
but  surely  more  about  the  boundless  love  of  God  in 
Jesus  Christ.  As  an  outcome  of  this  experience  the 
hymn  was  written  at  that  time.  In  singing  it,  Bliss 
put  special  emphasis  on  the  word  "  whosoever.''  So  he 
helped  many  a  man  to  believe  in  the  magnificent  oflfer 
of  salvation,  and — like  Richard  Baxter,  the  famous 
London  preacher — to  praise  the  Lord.  "  I  thank 
God,''  he  said,  "  for  the  word  '  whosoever.'  If  God 
had  said  that  there  was  mercy  for  Richard  Baxter,  I 
am  so  vile  a  sinner  that  I  would  have  thought  he 
meant  some  other  Richard  Baxter;  but  when  he  says 
*  whosoever,'  I  know  that  it  includes  me,  the  worst  of 
all  Richard  Baxters." 


Why  not  To-night? 

Words  by  Eliza  Reed  Music  by  Ira  D.  Sankey 

"  Oh,  do  not  let  the  Word  depart, 
And  close  thine  eyes  against  the  light." 

A  tram-car  man  was  passing  along  the  broadway 
at  Deptford,  England,  where  some  Christians  were 
singing  at  an  open-air  meeting, 

"  Oh,  do  not  let  the  Word  depart, 

Nor  close  thine  eyes  against  the  light; 
Poor  sinner,  harden  not  thy  heart, 
Thou  would*st  be  saved — Why  not  to-night?'* 

He  felt  the  force  of  the  appeal  and  hastened  home  to 
pray.  Though  he  knelt  down  and  plead  earnestly, 
no  light,  or  peace,  or  rest  came.    A  fortnight  passed 


258  Sankeys  Story 


away  in  this  state  of  uncertainty,  and  on  the  following 
Sunday  he  was  so  miserable  that  he  could  not  go  to 
his  work  on  the  tram-car.  In  the  evening  he  went  to 
a  chapel  and  remained  for  the  prayer-meeting.  The 
leader  of  the  open-air  meeting,  in  which  the  hymn  was 
sung  a  fortnight  before,  happened  to  be  present,  and 
he  saw  the  young  man  weeping  and  covering  his  face 
with  his  handkerchief.  Praying  the  Lord  to  give  him 
a  word  for  this  troubled  soul,  the  leader  asked :  "  Are 
you  trusting  Christ  ?  No,  but  I  am  seeking  Him," 
the  man  replied.  And  there  he  found  Him,  to  the  joy 
of  his  soul.  Thus,  in  the  providence  of  God,  the 
Christian  worker  who  was  the  cause  of  producing  the 
anxiety,  without  knowing  at  the  time  any  of  the  cir- 
cumstances, was  also  the  means  of  removing  it.  This 
is  but  one  of  the  numerous  instances  of  the  usefulness 
of    Why  not  To-night?  "  in  evangehstic  meetings. 

Windows  open  toward  Jerusalem 

Words  by  P.  P.  Bliss  Music  by  P.  P.  Bliss 

"  Do  you  see  the  Hebrew  captive  kneeling, 
At  morning,  noon  and  night,  to  pray?" 

While  attending  a  Sunday  service  at  the  State 
Prison  in  Joliet,  Illinois,  where  he  had  gone  to  sing, 
P.  P.  Bliss  heard  H.  G.  Spafford  of  Chicago,  who 
wrote  ''It  is  well  with  my  soul,''  address  the  prisoners, 
and  use  Daniel  in  Babylon  as  an  illustration  of  Gospel 
truth,  asking  the  question  in  closing,  Are  your  win- 
dows open  toward  Jerusalem  ?  "  This  suggested  the 
hymn  to  Mr.  Bliss. 

About  a  month  before  his  death  Mr.  Bliss  came  to 
Chicago  to  attend  a  convention  called  by  Mr.  Moody, 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  259 


and  there,  at  a  morning  meeting,  where  over  a  thou- 
sand ministers  were  present,  he  sang,  Are  your  win- 
dows open  toward  Jerusalem  ? with  intense  spiritual 
feeling.  One  minister  cried  out :  "  God  bless  Mr. 
Bliss  for  that  song ! His  face  fairly  shone  as  he 
sang,  and  half  of  those  present  were  in  tears  under 
the  influence  of  the  song.  Mr.  Moody,  filled  with 
emotion,  leaned  his  head  forward  upon  the  desk.  It 
was  the  last  time  he  heard  his  beloved  friend  and 
brother  sing. 

I  often  used  to  sing  this  song  as  a  solo  in  connec- 
tion with  Mr.  Moody's  lectures  on  the  prophet  Daniel. 

Wonderful  Words  of  Life 

Words  by  P.  P.  Bliss  Music  by  P.  P.  Bliss 

Sing  them  over  again  to  me, 
Wonderful  words  of  Life." 

"  While  visiting  an  old  man,  who  sufifered  much 
from  rheumatic  gout,''  narrates  a  Methodist  minister 
of  Birmingham,  England,  I  was  led  to  start  up, 
'  Sing  them  over  again  to  me,  wonderful  words  of 
Life.'  When  I  had  finished  and  while  the  tears  were 
coursing  down  his  cheeks,  he  exclaimed,  *  Oh,  sing 
them  over  again  to  me,  those  wonderful  words  of  life ! 
for  they  take  my  pain  away.'  And  so  I  repeated  that 
God-sent  message  to  the  poor  old  sufiferer,  who  soon 
afterward  passed  away  to  the  land  where  there  is  no 
more  pain. 

On  another  occasion  this  hymn  became  very 
useful  to  me.  I  was  preaching  to  a  crowded  audience 
at  Dartmouth  on  a  Sunday  evening,  when  a  young 
man  fell  from  his  seat  near  the  pulpit,  and  the  service 


26o  Sankey's  Story 


was  in  danger  because  of  the  confusion.  I  started 
singing,  '  Wonderful  Words  of  Life/  in  which  the 
whole  congregation  joined  heartily.  By  the  time  we 
had  sung  the  hymn  through  the  young  man  had  re- 
covered consciousness  and  found  his  seat  again,  lis- 
tening earnestly  to  my  sermon  on  the  theme,  '  In  God's 
Word  there  are  spirit  and  life.'  Those  present  thought 
his  case  a  living  illustration  of  the  song  and  sermon." 

Ye  Must  be  Born  Again 

Words  by  W.  T.  Sleeper  Music  by  George  C.  Stebbins 

"  A  ruler  once  came  to  Jesus  by  night, 
To  ask  Him  the  way  of  salvation  and  light;" 

"  One  evening  in  November,  1886,"  says  the 
superintendent  of  a  boys'  school,  I  was  walking 
along  a  street  in  St.  Joseph,  Missouri,  when  I  saw  be- 
fore me  a  great  crowd  gathered  around  a  door.  On 
coming  nearer  I  saw  that  it  was  at  the  entrance  of 
the  hall  of  the  Young  Men's  Christian  Association. 
In  the  doorway  stood  some  young  men,  singing.  Just 
as  I  came  near  enough  to  hear  they  began  to  sing : 

*  A  ruler  once  came  to  Jesus  by  night, 
To  ask  Him  the  way  of  salvation  and  light; 
The  Master  made  answer  in  words  true  and  plain, 
Ye  must  be  born  again,  again.' 

When  they  came  to  the  chorus  the  sword  of  the  Spirit 
entered  my  soul.  It  seemed  to  me  that  I  was  brought 
face  to  face  with  the  Lord  Jesus.  There  on  the  street, 
while  that  song  was  being  sung,  I  asked  him  to  teach 
me  how  to  be  born  again — and  he  did  it.  I  accepted 
an  invitation  to  the  service  for  the  evening,  and  after 
that  service,  for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  I  publicly 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  261 


acknowledged  Christ  as  my  Saviour.  I  have  always 
considered  that  it  was  through  the  influence  of  that 
hymn  that  my  soul  was  awakened.  Many  times  have 
I  thanked  God  for  the  song,  as  well  as  for  the  courage 
he  gave  to  his  disciples  to  sing  it  in  that  public  way." 

Many  years  ago  an  English  evangelist  sent  me 
this  incident :  We  were  holding  evangelistic  meet- 
ings," he  said,  in  a  town  in  Perthshire,  and  there 
was  one  who  helped  us  more  effectually  than  we 
were  at  first  aware  of.  I  hardly  know  how  we  be- 
came acquainted  with  '  Blind  Aggie for,  besides 
being  old  and  blind,  she  was  a  great  sufiferer  and  could 
seldom  creep  beyond  her  doorstep.  We  were 
strangers  in  the  place  and  no  one  told  us  of  her;  yet 
in  the  providence  of  God  one  of  our  party  was  led  to 
visit  her  little  room,  discovering  what  a  saint  she  was 
and  how  deeply  interested  in  all  she  had  heard  about 
our  intended  meetings.  She  helped  us  mightily  by 
prayer,  and  as  far  as  she  could  by  individual  work. 
Lodging  in  the  same  flat  with  blind  Aggie  was  a  seam- 
stress— a  poor,  giddy,  foolish  girl — in  whom  she  took 
a  deep  interest.  With  great  difficulty  she  persuaded 
this  girl  to  attend  one  of  our  meetings.  While  the 
girl  was  at  the  meeting  Aggie  was  praying  for  a  bless- 
ing upon  her;  and  when  she  returned  Aggie  asked 
many  questions,  but  to  her  sorrow  could  not  find  that 
any  impression  had  been  made  on  the  young  woman's 
heart.  The  good  old  woman  induced  the  thoughtless 
girl  to  go  again,  and  when  she  returned  the  second 
time  it  was  late,  and  blind  Aggie  had  already  gone  to 
bed.    But  the  girl  burst  into  the  old  woman's  room 


262  Sankey  s  Story 


crying :  '  Oh,  Aggie,  where  are  you  ?  I  must  tell  you ! ' 
'Well,  dear,  what  is  it?  Come  and  tell  me.'  'Oh, 
but  I  want  a  light  first,  I  canna  tell  ye  in  the  dark/ 
Though  Aggie  never  had  use  for  a  candle,  she  told 
the  girl  where  to  find  one.  After  it  was  lighted  the 
girl  burst  forth  from  a  full  heart :  '  Oh,  Aggie,  woman, 
I  didna  laugh  this  time !  They  sang  a  hymn,  and  it 
kept  saying,  '  Ye  must  be  born  again,'  and  it  just  laid 
hold  on  me,  Aggie,  and  oh!  I'm  born  again!  Jesus 
has  taken  me,  Aggie ! ' 

On  a  Sunday  evening,"  relates  a  young  lady  of 
Dunfermline,  Scotland,  I  went  with  a  companion  to 
take  a  w^alk  in  the  public  park,  when  our  attention  was 
drawn  to  an  open-air  meeting.  While  we  were  stand- 
ing there  listening,  the  hymn  'Ye  Must  be  Born  Again' 
was  given  out  and  sung.    Two  lines  of  the  last  verse, 

*  A  dear  one  in  heaven  thy  heart  yearns  to  see 
At  the  beautiful  gate  may  be  watching  for  thee/ 

took  a  firm  hold  on  me,  and  I  felt  that  I  must  be  born 
again,  for  I  never  could  get  there  of  myself.  That 
night  I  went  to  the  meeting  and  decided  for  Christ, 
and  ever  since  that  hymn  has  been  very  dear  to  me/' 

Yet  There  is  Room 

Words  by  Horatius  Bonar  Music  by  Ira  D.  Sankey 

"  '  Yet  there  is  room!'   The  Lamb's  bright  hall  of  song, 
With  its  fair  glory,  beckons  thee  along." 

Dr.  Bonar  wrote  this  hymn  at  my  request.  I  had 
been  singing  Tennyson's  great  poem,  'Xate,  late,  so 
late,  and  dark  the  night  and  chill,"  at  our  meetings  in 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  263 


Great  Britain,  in  1873-74,  and,  on  asking  permission 
of  the  owners  of  the  copyright  to  use  it  in  my  collec- 
tion of  songs,  was  refused.  I  then  requested  Dr. 
Bonar  to  write  a  hymn  that  should  cover  much  the 
same  ground.  Yet  there  is  room  was  the  result. 
It  was  one  of  the  first  hymns  for  which  I  wrote  music. 
It  always  had  a  very  solemnizing  effect  on  the  meet- 
ings, especially  when  the  last  lines  were  sung :  "  No 
room,  no  room— oh,  woful  cry,  '  No  room.'  " 

Yield  Not  to  Temptation 

Words  by  H.  R.  Palmer  Music  by  H.  R.  Palmer 

31  "  Yield  not  to  temptation,  1 

For  yielding  is  sin;" 

Mr.  Palmer  says :  This  song  was  an  inspiration. 
I  was  at  work  on  the  dry  subject  of  '  Theory '  when 
the  complete  idea  flashed  upon  me,  and  I  laid  aside 
the  theoretical  w^ork  and  hurriedly  penned  both  words 
and  music  as  fast  as  I  could  write  them.  I  submitted 
them  to  the  criticism  of  a  friend  afterward,  and  some 
changes  were  made  in  the  third  stanza,  but  the  first 
two  are  exactly  as  they  came  to  me.  The  music  was 
first  written  in  A  flat ;  but  I  soon  saw  that  B  flat  was 
better,  and  for  many  years  it  has  appeared  in  that  key. 
I  am  reverently  thankful  it  has  been  a  power  for  good." 

A  friend  contributes  this  incident :  Twenty 
years  ago,  when  the  State  prison  at  Sing  Sing,  New 
York,  had  women  as  well  as  men  within  its  walls,  a 
lady  used  to  visit  the  women's  department.  Every 
Sunday  afternoon  the  inmates  were  permitted  to  come 
out  and  sit  in  the  corridor  to  hear  her  talk,  and  to  sing 


264  Sankeys  Story 


hymns  with  her.  One  day  some  of  the  women  re- 
belled against  an  order  of  the  matron,  and  a  terrible 
scene  followed.  Screams,  threats,  ribaldry  and  pro- 
fanity filled  the  air.  It  was  said,  by  those  who  knew, 
that  an  uprising  among  the  women  prisoners  was 
worse  and  more  difficult  to  quell  than  one  among  the 
men.  The  matron  hastily  sent  to  the  men's  depart- 
ment for  help.  Suddenly  a  voice  rose  clear  and  strong 
above  the  tumult,  singing  a  favorite  song  of  the  pris- 
oners, 

*  Yield  not  to  temptation, 

For  yielding  is  sin; 
Each  victory  will  help  you 

Some  other  to  win. 
Fight  manfully  onward. 

Dark  passions  subdue; 
Look  ever  to  Jesus, 

He'll  carry  you  through.' 

There  was  a  lull ;  then  one  after  another  joined  in  the 
sacred  song ;  and  presently,  with  one  accord,  all  formed 
into  line  and  marched  quietly  to  their  cells." 

A  minister  who  at  the  time  was  laboring  there, 
writes  me  that  when  Dr.  Somerville,  of  Scotland,  and 
Mr.  Varley,  of  England,  were  in  New  Zealand,  in  the 
seventies,  in  connection  with  Young  Men's  Christian 
Association  work,  many  young  men  found  strength  for 
life's  temptations  in  the  first  lines  of  this  hymn,  which 
was  sung  at  every  meeting  for  months. 

Some  twenty-four  years  ago,"  writes  James  A. 
Watson,  of  Blackburn,  England,  "  the  Presbyterian 
church  of  England  was  preparing  to  issue  a  new  book 


Of  the  Gospel  Hymns  265 


of  praise,  '  The  Church  Praise/  now  in  use.  I  was 
asked  to  send  in  a  suitable  list  of  hymns  for  the  young. 
Among  the  number  I  sent  '  Yield  not  to  temptation/ 
but  to  my  regret,  when  I  got  a  draft  copy  of  the  pro- 
posed hymn-book,  that  hymn  was  not  in  it.  Three  or 
four  Sundays  afterward  I  was  requested  by  the 
teacher  of  the  infant  class  in  the  St.  George's  School, 
where  I  have  been  superintendent  for  over  forty  years, 
to  visit  a  dying  boy.  I  found  him  unconscious.  All 
that  his  widowed  mother  could  tell  me  about  him  was 
that  he  had  kept  saying :  *  He'll  carry  me  through.' 
When  I  asked  her  if  she  knew  what  he  meant,  she  told 
me  that  she  did  not.  She  did  not  attend  church  or 
school.  I  told  her  that  it  was  the  chorus  of  a  hymn, 
and  pointed  out  how  the  good  Shepherd  was  carrying 
her  little  boy  through  the  valley ;  how  he  was  gather- 
ing her  lamb  in  his  loving  arms.  I  also  told  her  that 
the  Saviour  would  carry  her  through  her  trouble, 
would  comfort,  strengthen  and  keep  her,  and  at  last 
bring  her  to  the  happy  land  where  death-divided  ones 
will  meet  to  part  no  more.  I  was  so  much  impressed 
by  the  incident  that  I  wrote  to  the  convener  of  the 
hymn-book  committee,  and  pleaded  for  the  insertion 
of  the  hymn  in  the  new  book.  The  committee  put  it 
in,  and  for  twenty-three  years  the  young  people  of 
our  Presbyterian  church  have  been  able  to  sing  it  when 
wanted,  all  through  the  comfort  it  had  been  to  a  little 
dying  boy,  the  only  son  of  a  witiow,  on  a  back  street 
of  Blackburn." 


INDEX 


Titles  in  Small  Capitals.    First  lines  in  Roman 
A. 

A  Mighty  Fortress   

A  ruler  once  came  to  Jesus  by  night* 
A  Shelter  in  the  Time  of  Storm.  . 

A  Sinner  Forgiven  

Abide  With  Me  

Alas!  and  did  my  Saviour  bleed?.... 

All  to  Christ  I  Owe  

Almost  Persuaded   

Are  You  Coming  Home  To-Night. 

Arise,  My  Soul,  Arise  

Art  Thou  Weary?  

Asleep  in  Jesus  

At  the  Cross  

B. 

Beautiful  River   

Beautiful  Valley  of  Eden  

Beneath  the  Cross  of  Jesus  I  fain  would  take  my  stand 

Beulah  Land   

Blest  be  the  Tie  that  Binds  

Blessed  Assurance  

Brightly  beams  our  Father's  mercy  

Brother,  art  thou  worn  and  weary  


C. 

Calling  Now    74 

Come   75 

Come  Believing    75 

Come,  every  soul  by  sin  oppressed   162 

Come,  Great  Deliverer,  Come   76 

Come,  Sinner,  Come   76 

Come,  Thou  Fount   78 

Come  to  the  Saviour   79 

Come  Unto  Me   80 

Come  Unto  Me,  and  Rest   81 

Consecration    82 


267 


55 
260 
56 
57 
58 
67 
59 
62 
64 
65 
65 
66 
67 


68 
71 
210 

71 
73 
72 
138 
81 


Index 


D. 

Dare  to  be  a  Daniel   84 

Dark  is  the  Night   84 

Depth       Mercy   84 

Do  you  see  the  Hebrew  captive  kneeling   258 

Down  in  the  valley  with  my  Saviour  I  would  go   92 

Down  life's  dark  vale  we  wander    251 

DOXOLOGY    86 

Dying  with  Jesus,  by  death  reckoned  mine   140 

E. 

Eternity    88 

Even  Me    91 

Evening  Prayer    89 

F. 

EoivivOw  On    92 

From  Greenland's  icy  mountains   140 

From  the  riven  Rock  there  floweth   229 

G. 

Go  Bury  Thy  Sorrow   92 

God  Be  With  You    94 

H. 

Hallelujah,  'tis  Done   95 

Hallelujah,  What  a  Saviour   96 

Hark!  the  voice  of  Jesus  crying, —   98 

Have  you  on  the  Lord  believed?   142 

He  Knows    97 

He  Leadeth  Me   97 

Here  Am  I,  Send  Me   98 

Hiding  in  Thee   99 

Ho!  my  comrades,  see  the  signal   100 

Ho!  Reapers  oi?  Lite's  Harvest    99 

Hold  the  Fort   100 

Home  of  the  Soul  *   106 

How  Firm  a  Foundation   107 

I. 

I  am  far  frae  my  hame,  an'  I'm  weary  aften-whiles   143 

I  Am  Praying  for  You   108 

I  am  so  glad  that  our  Father  in  heaven   126 

I  feel  like  singing  all  the  time   191 

I  Gave  My  Life  for  Thee   no 

I  have  a  Saviour,  He's  pleading  in  glory   108 

I  have  read  of  a  beautiful  city   153 

I  hear  the  Saviour  say   59 

I  Hear  Thy  Welcome  Voice   in 

4 


Index  269 

I  know  not  the  hour  when  my  Lord  will  come   207 

I  know  not  what  awaits  me.   97 

I  Love  to  Tell  the  Story   114 

I  Need  Thee  Every  Hour   115 

I  think  when  I  read  that  sweet  story  of  old   231 

I  will  sing  you  a  song  of  that  beautiful  land   106 

I'll  Go  Where  Thou  Wouldst  I  Should  Go   113 

In  the  Christian's  home  in  glory   175 

In  the  land  of  strangers   244 

In  the  Secret  oe  His  Presence   116 

It  Is  Finished   117 

It  is  Well  With  My  Soul   118 

It  may  not  be  on  the  mountain's  height   113 

I've  Found  a  Friend   120 

I've  reached  the  land  of  corn  and  wine   71 

Jesus,  I  Will  Trust  Thee.^   121 

,.-^Jesus,  Lover  of  My  Soul   122 

Jesus  Loves  Even  Me   126 

Jesus  Loves  Me   129 

Jesus,  my  Lord,  to  Thee  I  cry   202 

Jesus  of  Nazareth  Passeth  By   130 

Jesus,  Saviour,  Pilot  Me!   135 

Just  as  I  Am   136 

L. 

Lead,  Kindly  Light   137 

Let  the  Lower  Lights  be  Burning   138 

Let  tjie  Saviour  in   139 

Let  us  gather  up  the  sunbeams   189 

Light  in  the  darkness,  sailor,  day  is  at  hand   172 

Lord,  I  hear  of  showers  of  blessing   91 

Lord  Jesus,  I  long  to  be  perfectly  whole   256 

M. 

*'Man  of  Sorrows,"  what  a  name!   96 

Master,  the  tempest  is  raging   170 

Missionary  Hymn    140 

Moment  by  Moment   140 

More  to  Follow   142 

Must  I  Go,  and  Empty-Handed   142 

My  Ain  Countrie   143 

My  Country,  'Tis  oe  Thee   145 

My  days  are  gliding  swiftly  by   227 

^My  Faith  Looks  Up  to  Thee   146 

My  Father  is  rich  in  houses  and  lands   208 

My  hope  is  built  on  nothing  less   230 

My  Jesus,  I  Love  Thee   148 


hidex 


N. 

Nearer,  My  God  to  Thee   150 

Xo  Hope  in  Jesus   152 

XoT  Half  Has  Ever  Been  Told   153 

N'ot  now,  but  in  the  coming  years   194 

Not  Now,  My  Child   154 

Nothing  but  Leaves   156 

Nothing,  either  great  or  small   117 

O. 

O  Christ,  what  burdens  bowed  Thy  head   197 

O  FOR  A  Thousand  Tongues  to  Sing   157 

O  hear  my  cry,  be  gracious  now  to  me   76 

O  safe  to  the  Rock  that  is  higher  than  1   99 

O  what  a  Saviour  that  He  died  for  me   242 

O  word  of  words  the  sweetest   75 

Oh!  do  not  let  the  Word  depart   257 

Oh  I  tender  and  sweet  was  the  ^Master's  voice   166 

Oh.  the  clanging  bells  of  Time!   88 

Oh,  to  Be  Nothing   158 

Oh,  to  have  no  Christ,  no  Saviour   152 

Oh,  What  Are  You  Going  to  Do?   158 

Ox  Jordan's  Stormy  Banks   159 

Once  again  the  Gospel  message   75 

One  More  Day's  Work  for  Jesus   160 

One  Sweetly  Solemn  Thought   161 

Only  a  Step  to  Jesus   162 

Only  Trust  Him   162 

Onward.  Christian  Soldiers   164 

Our  life  is  like  a  stormy  sea   215 

Out    of   the    Shadow-Land    165 

Over  the  Line   166 

P. 

Pass  Me  Not   168 

Peace  I    Be  Still!   170 

Praise  God.  from  whom  all  blessings  fiow   86 

Pull  for  the  Shore   172 

R. 

Rejoice!    Rejoice!    Our  King  is  coming   215 

Rescue  the  Perishing   173 

Rest  for  the  Weary   175 

Ring  the  Bells  of  Heaven   176 

Rock  of  Ages   i77 

S. 

Safe  in  the  Arms  of  Jesus   179 

Saved  by  Gr-\ce   185 


Index  271 

Saviour,  breathe  an  evening  blessing   89 

Saviour,  More  Than  Life   188 

Saviour!    Thy  dying  love   193 

Scatter  Seeds  of  Kindness   189 

Shall  we  gather  at  the  river?   68 

Shali,  We  Meet?   190 

Shall  You?   Shall  I?   190 

Simply  trusting  every  day   241 

Sing  them  over  again  to  me   259 

SiNG-iNG  All  the  Time   191 

Sleep  on,  beloved,  sleep,  and  take  thy  rest   209 

Some  day  the  silver  cord  will  break   185 

Some  one  will  enter  the  pearly  gate   190 

Something  for  Jesus   193 

Sometime  We'll  Understand   194 

Sowing  the  seed  by  the  daylight  fair   248 

Stand  Up  for  Jesus   197 

Standing  by  a  purpose  true   84 

Substitution    197 

Sweet  By-and-By    199 

Sweet  Peace,  the  Gift  of  God's  Love   201 

T. 

Take  Me  as  I  Am   202 

Take  my  life,  and  let  it  be   82 

Tell  It  Out   205 

Tell  Me  the  Old,  Old  Story  206 

That  Will  Be  Heaven  for  Me  207 

The  Child  of  a  King!  208 

The  Christian's  Good-Night   209 

The  Cross  of  Jesus   210 

The  Gate  Ajar  for  Me   212 

The  Harbor  Bell   215 

The  King  is  Coming!   215 

The  Lord's  our  Rock,  in  Him  we  hide   56 

The  Mistakes  of  My  Life   216 

The  Model   Church   217 

The  Ninety  and  Nine   218 

The  Shining  Shore   227 

The  Smitten  Rock   229 

The  Solid  Rock   230 

The  Sweet  Story  of  Old   231 

There  comes  to  my  heart  one  sweet  strain  201 

-^TherE  is  a  Fountain  232 

There  is  a  gate  that  stands  ajar   212 

There  is  a  Green  Hill  Far  Away   233 

There  were  ninety  and  nine  that  safely  lay  218 

There'll  be  no  Dark  Valley   234 


272 


Index 


There's  a  land  that  is  fairer  than  day   199 

There's  a  Light,  in  the  Vali^ey  235 

There's  a  Stranger  at  the  door   139 

This  loving  Saviour  stands  patiently   74 

Through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  I  must  go  235 

Throw  Out  the  Life-Line  236 

'Tis  the  promise  of  God  full  salvation  to  give   95 

To  the  hall  of  the  feast  came  the  sinful  and  fair   57 

To  THE  Work  239 

To-Day  the  Saviour  Cai.i.s  238 

Trust  AND  Obey  240 

Trusting  Jesus,  That  is  Ai.Iv   241 

U. 

Under  His  Wings  242 

V. 

VER11.Y,  VER11.Y   242 

W. 

Waiting  and  Watching  f^or  Me   243 

We  speak  of  the  land  of  the  blest   247 

WeIvCome!    Wanderer,  Wei^come!  244 

Well,  wife,  I've  found  the  model  church  217 

.  What  a  Friend  We  Have  in  Jesus   245 

What  means  this  eager,  anxious  throng?   130 

What  Must,  it  be  to  be  There?   247 

What  Shali.  the  Harvest  Be?  248 

When  Jesus  Comes  251 

When  my  final  farewell  to  the  world  I  have  said  243 

When  peace,  like  a  river,  attendeth  my  way   118 

When  the  Mists  Have  R01.1.ED  Away  251 

When  the  Roll  is  Called  Up  Yonder  252 

When  the  trumpet  of  the  Lord  shall  sound  252 

When  we  walk  with  the  Lord   240 

Where  is  My  Boy  To-Night?  253 

While  Jesus  whispers  to  you   76 

Whiter  Than  Snow  256 

Whosoever  heareth,  shout,  shout  the  sound  256 

''Whosoever  Will"  256 

Why  Not  To-Night?  257 

Windows  Open  Toward  Jerusalem  258 

Wonderful  Words  of  Life   259 

Y. 

Ye  Must  Be  Born  Again   260 

Yet  There  is  Room   262 

Yield  Not  to  Temptation   263 


